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Page 46
Her fingers had tightened about his, and she was looking away from him.
He saw now that the color had almost gone from her face. There was the
flash of a new fire in her yes.
"And THAT was why she was nervous and pale, with sometimes a frightened
look in her eyes," she spoke softly, repeating his words. "It was
because of this Chinese monster, Shan Tung--because he has some sort of
power over her, you say--because--"
She snatched her hand from his with a suddenness that startled him. Her
eyes, so beautiful and soft a few minutes before, scintillated fire.
"Derry, if you don't fix this heathen devil--I WILL!"
She stood up before him, breathing quickly, and he beheld in her not
the soft, slim-waisted little goddess of half an hour ago, but the
fiercest fighter of all the fighting ages, a woman roused. And no
longer fear, but a glory swept over him. She was Conniston's sister,
AND SHE WAS CONNISTON. Even as he saw his plans falling about him, he
opened his arms and held them out to her, and with the swiftness of
love she ran into them, putting her hands to his face while he held her
close and kissed her lips.
"You bet we'll fix that heathen devil before we go," he said. "You bet
we will--SWEETHEART!"
XVIII
Wallie, suffering the outrage of one who sees his dinner growing cold,
found Keith and Mary Josephine in the edge of the golden birch and
implored them to come and eat. It was a marvel of a dinner. Over Mary
Josephine's coffee and Keith's cigar they discussed their final plans.
Keith made the big promise that he would "fix Shan Tung" in a hurry,
perhaps that very afternoon. In the glow of Mary Josephine's proud eyes
he felt no task too large for him, and he was eager to be at it. But
when his cigar was half done, Mary Josephine came around and perched
herself on the arm of his chair, and began running her fingers through
his hair. All desire to go after Shan Tung left him. He would have
remained there forever. Twice she bent down and touched his forehead
lightly with her lips. Again his arm was round her soft little waist,
and his heart was pumping like a thing overworked. It was Mary
Josephine, finally, who sent him on his mission, but not before she
stood on tiptoe, her hands on his shoulders, giving him her mouth to
kiss.
An army at his back could not have strengthened Keith with a vaster
determination than that kiss. There would be no more quibbling. His
mind was made up definitely on the point. And his first move was to
head straight for the Kirkstone house on the hill.
He did not get as far as the door this time. He caught a vision of
Miriam Kirkstone in the shrubbery, bareheaded, her hair glowing
radiantly in the sun. It occurred to him suddenly that it was her hair
that roused the venom in him when he thought of her as the property of
Shan Tung. If it had been black or even brown, the thought might not
have emphasized itself so unpleasantly in his mind. But that vivid gold
cried out against the crime, even against the girl herself. She saw him
almost in the instant his eyes fell upon her, and came forward quickly
to meet him. There was an eagerness in her face that told him his
coming relieved her of a terrific suspense.
"I'm sorry I wasn't at the Shack when you came, Miss Kirkstone," he
said, taking for a moment the hand she offered him. "I fancy you were
up there to see me about Shan Tung."
He sent the shot bluntly, straight home. In the tone of his voice there
was no apology. He saw her grow cold, her eyes fixed on him staringly,
as though she not only heard his words but saw what was in his mind.
"Wasn't that it, Miss Kirkstone?"
She nodded affirmatively, but her lips did not move.
"Shan Tung," he repeated. "Miss Kirkstone, what is the trouble? Why
don't you confide in someone, in McDowell, in me, in--"
He was going to say "your brother," but the suddenness with which she
caught his arm cut the words short.
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