"How wonderful!" she breathed. "I love them. They bring me my best thoughts."Before he could reply there came from behind the grub shack a torrent of abusive speech florid with profane language and other adornment and in a voice thick with rage.
"That's him," said Nora. "Some one is getting it." The satisfaction in her voice and look were in sharp contrast to the look of dismay and shame that covered the burning face of her sister. From English the voice passed into German, apparently no less vigorous or threatening. "That's better," said Nora with a wicked glance at Romayne. "You see he is talking to some one of his own people.
They understand that. There are a lot of Germans from the Settlement, Freiberg, you know."As she spoke Switzer emerged from behind the shack, driving before him a cringing creature evidently in abject terror of him. "Get back to your gang and carry out your orders, or you will get your time." He caught sight of the car and stopped abruptly, and, waving his hand imperiously to the workman, strode up to the party, followed by a mild-looking man in spectacles.
"Came to see how you are getting on, Switzer, eh, what?" said Tom.
"Getting on," he replied in a loud voice, raising his hat in salutation. "How can one get on with a lot of stupid fools who cannot carry out instructions and dare to substitute their own ideas for commands. They need discipline. If I had my way they would get it, too. But in this country there is no such thing as discipline." He made no attempt to apologise for his outrageous outburst, was probably conscious of no need of apology.
"This is your foreman, I think?" said Nora, who alone of the party seemed to be able to deal with the situation.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Steinberg," said Switzer, presenting the spectacled man.
"You are too busy to show us anything this afternoon?" said Nora sweetly.
"Yes, much too busy," said Switzer, gruffly. "I have no time for anything but work these days.""You cannot come along for a little shoot?" she said, innocently.
Nora was evidently enjoying herself.
"Shoot!" cried Switzer in a kind of contemptuous fury. "Shoot, with these dogs, these cattle, tramping around here when they need some one every minute to drive them. Shoot! No, no. I am not a gentleman of leisure."The distress upon Kathleen's face was painfully apparent. Jack was in no hurry to bring relief. Like Nora he was enjoying himself as well. It was Tom who brought about the diversion.
"Well, we must go on, Switzer. Coming over to see you one of these days and go over the plant. Treasurer's got to know something about it, eh, what?"Switzer started and looked at him in surprise. "Treasurer, who?
Are you to be treasurer of the company? Who says so? Mr. Gwynne did not ask--did not tell me about it.""Ah, sorry--premature announcement, eh?" said Tom. "Well, good-bye. All set."
The Packard gave forth sundry growls and snorts and glided away down the trail.
Nora was much excited. "What's this about the treasurership?" she demanded. "Are you really to be treasurer, Mr. Waring-Gaunt? I am awfully glad. You know this whole mine was getting terribly Switzery. Isn't he awful? He just terrifies me. I know he will undertake to run me one of these days.""Then trouble, eh, what?" said Waring-Gaunt, pleasantly.
After a short run the motor pulled up at a wheat field in which the shocks were still standing and which lay contiguous to a poplar bluff.
"Good chicken country, eh?" said Tom, slipping out of the car quietly. "Nora, you come with me. Quiet now. Off to the left, eh, what? You handle Sweeper, Jack.""I'll drive the car," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "Go on with Jack, Kathleen.""Come on, Miss Kathleen, you take the gun, and I'll look after the dog. Let me have the whistle, Tom."They had not gone ten yards from the car when the setter stood rigid on point. "Steady, old boy," said Jack. "Move up quickly, Miss Kathleen. Is your gun ready? Sure it's off safe?""All right," said the girl, walking steadily on the dog.
Bang! Bang! went Nora's gun. Two birds soared safely aloft. Bang!
Bang! went Kathleen's gun. "Double, by jove! Steady, Sweeper!"Again the dog stood on point. Swiftly Jack loaded the gun. "Here you are, Miss Kathleen. You will get another," he said. "There are more here." As he spoke a bird flew up at his right. Bang! went Kathleen's gun. "Another, good work." Bang! went Nora's gun to the left. "Look out, here he comes," cried Jack, as Nora's bird came careening across their front. It was a long shot. Once more Kathleen fired. The bird tumbled in the air and fell with a thump right at their feet.
Sweeper, released from his point, went bounding joyfully over the stubble. Jack rushed up toward the girl, and taking her hand in both of his, shook it warmly. "Oh, splendid, partner, splendid, great shooting!""Oh, it was easy. Sweeper had them fast," said Kathleen. "And that last shot was just awfully good luck.""Good luck! Good Lord! it was anything but luck. It was great shooting. Well, come along. Oh, we're going to have a glorious day, aren't we, partner?" And catching hold of her arm, he gave her a friendly little shake.
"Yes," she cried, responding frankly to his mood, "we will. Let's have a good day.""Where did you learn to shoot?" inquired Jack.
"Nora and I have always carried guns in the season," replied Kathleen, "even when we were going to school. You see, Larry hates shooting. We loved it and at times were glad to get them--the birds, I mean. We did not do it just for sport.""Can your sister shoot as well as you?"
"Hardly, I think. She pulls too quickly, you see, but when she steadies down she will shoot better than I.""You are a wonder," said Jack enthusiastically.
"Oh, not a wonder," said the girl.
"Wait till I get the birds back to the car," he cried.
