"Some other night," she promised. "Not now--I don't want to go now.
I--I'm not ready."

"There's no time like to-night, honey. My brother came with me in the
boat. We've got horses waitin'--an' the preacher came ten miles to do the
job."

Then, with the wisdom born of many flirtations, he dropped argument and
wooed her ardently. The anchors that held the girl to safety dragged. The
tug of sex, her desire of love and ignorance of life, his eager and
passionate demand that she trust him: all these swelled the tide that
beat against her prudence.

She caught his coat lapels tightly in her clenched fists.

"If I go I'll be givin' up everything in the world for you, Dave
Roush. My folks'll hate me. They'd never speak to me again. You'll
be good to me. You won't cast it up to me that I ran away with you.
You'll--you'll--" Her voice broke and she gulped down a little sob.

He laughed. She could not see his face in the darkness, but the sound of
his laughter was not reassuring. He should have met her appeal seriously.

The girl drew back.

He sensed at once his mistake. "Good to you!" he cried. "'Lindy, I'm
a-goin' to be the best ever."

"I ain't got any mother, Dave." Again she choked in her throat. "You
wouldn't take advantage of me, would you?"