ace
thought he was studying his old and rather muddy clothes. "But, of
course," he resumed, "it's possible you'd sooner go on alone."

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Askew! I think you know what I
mean. I didn't want to keep you from your work."

He looked relieved. "Yes. Although I'm not very clever at this sort
of thing, I generally do know what you mean. I can't tell if it's
strange or not."

"It certainly is not worth while puzzling about. I expect I'm rather
obvious--for that matter, so are you."

"Frankness often saves you some trouble and I don't know if it gives your
opponent the advantage some folks imagine. However, it's not our rule in
the dale to say all we feel."

"It's not Bell's, for example. How is the coal campaign getting on?"

"Well," said Kit, thoughtfully, "so far as that goes, I believe we have
beaten him. There's a new notice that lowers the price seven-and-six
altogether, and last night we advised folks to buy. But I don't know if
the fight's over. Bell may find another way of putting on the screw."

"I hope he will give it up," Grace replied. "I tried to help, because I
felt I must; but of course you see I can't help again."

Kit made a sign of understanding. "Yes; you showed us how to bring the
peat down. Now I don't know what to say. It's awkward ground."

They were silent for some time afterwards, for both had said enough and
knew that Osborn's resentment must be reckoned on. It made them feel like
accomplices and drew them together. They were young and not given to
looking far ahead, but they saw the threat that the friendship both
valued might be broken off.

By and by three or four reports rang through the calm air and Grace came
near to stopping, but did not. She had forgotten Osborn was shooting in
Redmire wood and she and Kit must pass its edge. For all that, she could
not turn back. Kit would guess why she did so; it would be an awkward
admission that she was afraid of being seen with him by Osborn or his
friends. She was afraid, but she was proud, and went on, hoping that Kit
had not noted her hesitation. He had not, but was puzzled by her resolute
and half-defiant look.

The guns were silent when they came to the wood, which rolled down the
hillside below the road. Here and there a white birch trunk and a yellow
patch of oak leaves shone among the dark firs; the beech hedge was
covered by withered brown foliage. A belt of grass ran between the wood
and road and G