Big Game - A Story for Girls
Page 87As she was speaking Margot was conscious of a succession of stifled
chuckles which her companion vainly tried to suppress. The Chieftain's
amusement had evidently overmastered his threatened displeasure, and
when at length she paused, he burst into an irresistible guffaw of
laughter, rubbed his hands together, and cried gleefully-"Stalked him! Stalked him! Poor old George! Big game, and no mistake.
Ran him to earth... Eh, what? Bravo, bravo, Miss Bright Eyes! You
are a first-class conspirator."
He laughed again and again, with ever-increasing merriment, laughed till
his eyes disappeared in wrinkles of fat, till the tears streamed
helplessly down his cheeks. His portly form shook with the violence of
his merriment; he kicked the air with his short, fat feet.
Margot stared at this strange exhibition in an amazement, which
last the Chieftain sat up to mop his eyes with a large silk pocket-
handkerchief, he beheld a very dignified young lady sitting by his side
in a position of poker-like rigidity, with her head tilted to an
expressive angle.
"Sorry!" he panted hastily. "Sorry I smiled. A compliment, you know,
if you look at it in the right light. It's such an uncommonly good
idea, and so original. `The Stalking of the Editor'--eh? Well, now
that you have made such a rattling good beginning, why don't you go on
and prosper? Here you are; there he is; the field is your own. Why
don't you go in and win?"
Margot's face fell, and her haughty airs vanished, as she turned towards
"But I can't! How can I, when he runs away the moment I appear? I made
Ron go fishing with him one day, but he went off and left him alone, and
now it's no use persuading any more. Ron says it is only waste of time!
As for me, I have hardly spoken a word to him all this time, though I
feel that if I did really know him, I--" she hesitated, knitting her
brows, and pursing her soft red lips--"I could make him understand! I
decided at last to confide in you, because you have been so kind and
friendly to us from the first that I felt sure you would be willing to
help. You will, won't you? Even if personally you don't approve of a
literary career, will you give Ron a chance of living his life in his
own way? If your brother approved of his writings, and helped him to a
that he was not wasting his time."
The Chieftain clasped his hands around his knees, and sat staring at her
with thoughtful gaze. His eyes rested upon the clear childlike eyes,
the sweet lips, the broad, honest brow, as though studying them in a new
light, and with regard to some problem suddenly presented to the mind.
Whatever was the question waiting to be decided, the answer was self-
evidently favourable, for his eyes lightened, he stretched out an
impetuous hand, and laid it upon her arm.