The Call of the Cumberlands

Samson, throwing things hurriedly into his bag, heard a knock on his

door. He opened it, and outside in the hall stood Adrienne. Her face

was pale, and she leaned a little on the hand which rested against the

white jamb.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

He came over.

"It means, Drennie," he said, "that you may make a pet of a leopard cub,

but there will come a day when something of the jungle comes out in him

--and he must go. My uncle has been shot, and the feud is on--I've been

sent for."

He paused, and she half-whispered in an appealing voice: "Don't go."

"You don't mean that," he said, quietly. "If it were you, you would

go. Whether I get back here or not"--he hesitated--"my gratitude will

be with you--always." He broke off, and said suddenly: "Drennie, I

don't want to say good-by to you. I can't."

"It's not necessary yet," she answered. "I'm going to drive you to New

York."

"No!" he exclaimed. "It's too far, and I've got to go fast----"

"That's why I'm going," she promptly assured him. "I'm the only fool

on these premises that can get all the speed out of a car that's in her

engine--and the constables are good to me. I just came up here to--" she

hesitated, then added--"to see you alone for a moment, and to say that

teacher has never had such a bright little pupil, in her life--and--"

the flippancy with which she was masking her feeling broke and she

added, in a shaken voice as she thrust out her hand, man-fashion--"and

to say, God keep you, boy."

He seized the hand in both his own, and gripped it hard. He tried to

speak, but only shook his head with a rueful smile.

"I'll be waiting at the door with the car," she told him, as she left.

Horton, too, came in to volunteer assistance.

"Wilfred," said Samson, feelingly, 'there isn't any man I'd rather

have at my back, in a stand-up fight. But this isn't exactly that sort.

Where I'm going, a fellow has got to be invisible. No, you can't help,

now. Come down later. We'll organize Horton, South and Co."

"South, Horton and Co.," corrected Wilfred; "native sons first."

At that moment, Adrienne believed she had decided the long-mooted

question. Of course, she had not. It was merely the stress of the

moment; exaggerating the importance of one she was losing at the

expense of the one who was left. Still, as she sat in the car waiting,

her world seemed slipping into chaos under her feet, and, when Samson

had taken his place at her side, the machine leaped forward into a

reckless plunge of speed.