"
Burton smiled.
It was midnight when the Prims and their guests arose
from the table. Hettie Penning was with them, and ev-
eryone present had been sworn to secrecy about her
share in the tragedy of the previous night. On the mor-
row she would return to Payson and no one there the
wiser; but first she had Burton send to the jail for Giova,
who was being held as a witness, and Giova promised
to come and work for the Pennings.
At last Bridge stole a few minutes alone with Abi-
gail, or, to be more strictly a truthful historian, Abigail
outgeneraled the others of the company and drew
Bridge out upon the veranda.
"Tell me," demanded the girl, "why you were so kind
to me when you thought me a worthless little scamp of a
boy who had robbed some one's home."
"I couldn't have told you a few hours ago," said Bridge.
"I used to wonder myself why I should feel toward a
boy as I felt toward you,--it was inexplicable,--and then
when I knew that you were a girl, I understood, for I
knew that I loved you and had loved you from the mo-
ment that we met there in the dark and the rain be-
side the Road to Anywhere."
"Isn't it wonderful?" murmured the girl, and she had
other things in her heart to murmur; but a man's lips
smothered hers as Bridge gathered her into his arms and
strained her to him.
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