The Range Dwellers by B. M. Bower
page 71 of 151 (47%)
page 71 of 151 (47%)
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miners and mines, and often Terence and Beryl go with him, so you could
come--" "No, thank you." I put on the dignity three deep there. "If I can't come when your uncle is at home, I won't sneak in when he's gone. I--how does it happen you are away out here by yourself?" "Well," she explained, still doing things to the camera, "Beryl came out here yesterday, and made a sketch of the divide; I just happened to see her putting it away. So I made her tell me where she got that view-point, and I wanted her to come with me, so I could get a snap shot; it _is_ pretty, from here. But she went over to the mines with Mr. Weaver, and I had to come alone. Beryl likes to be around those dirty mines--but I can't bear it. And, now I'm here, something's gone wrong with the thing, so I can't wind the film. Do you know how to fix it, Ellie?" I didn't, and I told her so, in a word. Edith pouted again--she has a pretty mouth that looks well all tied up in a knot, and I have a slight suspicion that she knows it--and said that a fellow who could take an automobile all to pieces and put it together again ought to be able to fix a kodak. That's the way some women reason, I believe--just as though cars and kodaks are twin brothers. Our conversation, as I remember it now, was decidedly flat and dull. I kept thinking of Beryl being there the day before--and I never knew; of her being off somewhere to-day with that Weaver fellow--and I knew it and couldn't do a thing. I hardly know which was the more unpleasant to dwell upon, but I do know that it made me mighty poor company for Edith. I sat there on a near-by rock and lighted cigarettes, only to let them go out, and glowered at King's Highway, off across the flat, as if it were the |
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