The Sheriff's Son
Would n't that make a good picture—kinder liven up the porch if we 're on it?"
Roy felt a sudden impulse to protest, but he dared not yield to it. What was it this man wanted of the picture? Why had he baited a trap to get a picture of him without Beulah Rutherford knowing that he particularly wanted it? While the girl took the photograph, his mind was racing for Tighe's reason.
"I 'll send you a copy as soon as I print it, Mr. Tighe," promised Beulah.
"I 'll sure set a heap of store by it, Miss Beulah. … If you don't mind helping me set the table, we 'll leave Mr. Street this old newspaper for a few minutes whilst we fix up a snack. You 'll excuse us, Mr. Street? That's good."
Beulah went into the house the same gay and light-hearted comrade of Beaudry that she had been all morning. When he was called in to dinner, he saw at once that Tighe had laid his spell upon her. She was again the sullen, resentful girl of yesterday. Suspicion filmed her eyes. The eager light of faith in him that had quickened them while she listened for his answers to her naïve questions about the great world was blotted out completely.
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