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The Country Beyond by James Oliver Curwood
page 44 of 312 (14%)
he paused to make sure of the unseen trail, so close that her
cheek rested against his arm, and--bending a little--his lips
touched the soft ripples of her hair. But he could not see her in
the gloom, and his heart pounded fiercely all the way to the ford.

Then he laughed a strange little laugh that was not at all like
Jolly Roger.

"I'll try and not let you get wet again, Nada," he said.

Her fingers still held to his thumb, as if she was afraid of
losing him there in the blackness that lay about them like a great
ink-blotch. And she crept closer to him, saying nothing, and all
the power in his soul fought in Jolly Roger to keep him from
putting his arms about her slim little body and crying out the
worship that was in him.

"I ain't--I mean I'm not afraid of gettin' wet," he heard her
whisper then. "You're so big and strong, Mister Roger--"

Gently he freed his thumb from her fingers, and picked her up, and
held her high, so that she was against his breast and above the
deepest of the water. Lightly at first Nada's arms lay about his
shoulders, but as the flood began to rush higher and she felt him
straining against it,--her arms tightened, until the clasp of them
was warm and thrilling round Jolly Roger's neck. She gave a big
gasp of relief when he stood her safely down upon her feet on the
other side. And then again she reached out, and found his hand,
and twined her fingers about his big thumb--and Jolly Roger went
on with her over the plain toward Cragg's Ridge, dripping wet,
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