blankets it was easy to tell that the women had not gone far. The last man who went below handed the spluttering torch to Miss Vanderman, as if she might need it to defend herself, and she stood there shaking it to try and make it smoke less until the planks were back in place. She was totally unconscious of it, but with the torchlight gleaming on her hair and reflected in her blue eyes she looked like the spirit of old romance come forth to start a holy war.
"Now please explain!" she begged, when I had pushed the last stone in place. "First, what kind of Americans can you possibly be? Do you all use such extraordinary accents, and such expressions?"
"Don't I talk American to beat the band?" objected Fred. "Sit down on this rock a while, and I'll convince you."
She sat on the rock, and we gathered round her. She was not more than twenty-two or three, but as perfectly assured and fearless as only a well-bred woman can be in the presence of unshaven men she does not know. Fred would have continued the tomfoolery, but Will oared in.
"I'm Will Yerkes, Miss Vanderman."
"Oh!"
"I know Nurse Vanderman at the mission."
"Yes, she spoke of you."
"Fred Oakes here is—"
"Is English as they make them, yes, I know! Why the amazing efforts to—"
"I stand abashed, like the leopard with the spots unchangeable!" said Fred, and grinned most unashamedly.
"They're both English."
"Yes, I see, but why—"
