"Those are pretty names. Just the same,
I admire your grit. Well, here we go!"
He took up the lead rope, and went on without even looking back to see
if she followed. If he had made the slightest attempt to force her to
come, if he had betrayed the least uncertainty as to whether she would
come, Hazel would have swung down from the saddle and set her face
stubbornly southward in sheer defiance of him. But such is the
peculiar complexity of a woman that she took one longing glance
backward, and then fell in behind the packs. She was weighted down
with dread of the unknown, boiling over with rage at the man who swung
light-footed in the lead; but nevertheless she followed him.
CHAPTER IX
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT
All the rest of that day they bore steadily northward. Hazel had no
idea of Bill Wagstaff's destination. She was too bitter against him to
ask, after admitting that she could not face the wilderness alone.
Between going it alone and accompanying him, it seemed to be a case of
choosing the lesser evil. Curiously she felt no fear of Bill Wagstaff
in person, and she did have a dread vision of what might happen to her
if she went wandering alone in the woods.
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