"Tough sledding we'd have had with an automobile over those hills," he said."We'll try it after lunch, though.""We'll go for a ride?" she cried joyfully.
"Yep.Got to hunt up the folks.The mountains near Asheville!" he said with disgust."I should say they are near--and far, too.Holy smoke, I'll bet we get lost!""Nonsense----"
"Where's the Black Mountains, I wonder?" he asked suddenly.
"Over there!" She pointed to the giant peaks projecting here and there in dim, blue waves beyond the Great Craggy Range in the foreground.
"Holy Moses!Do we have to climb those crags before we start?" "To go to Black Mountain?""Yes.That's where the lawyer said they lived, under Cat-tail Peak in the Black Mountain Range--wherever t'ell that is.""No, no! You don't climb the Great Craggy; you go around this end of it and follow the Swannanoa River right up to the foot of Mount Mitchell, the highest peak this side of the Rockies.The Cat-tail is just beyond Mount Mitchell.""You've been there?" he asked in surprise.
"Once, with a party from Asheville.We spent three days and slept in caves.""Suppose you'd know the way now?"
"We couldn't miss it.We follow the bed of the Swannanoa to its source-----""Then that settles it.We'll go by ourselves.I don't want any mutt along to show us the way.We couldn't get lost nohow, could we?""Of course not--all the roads lead to Asheville.We can ask the way to the house you want, when we reach the little stopping place at the foot of Mount Mitchell.""Gee, Kid, you're a wonder!" he exclaimed admiringly."Couldn't get along without you, now could I?""I hope not, sir!"
"You bet I couldn't! We'll start right away.The roads will give us a jolt----"He turned suddenly to go.
"Wait--wait a minute, dear," she pleaded."You haven't seen this gorgeous view to the southwest, with Mount Pisgah looming in the center like some vast cathedral spire--look, isn't it glorious?""Fine!Fine!" he responded in quick, businesslike tones.
"You can look for days and weeks and not begin to realize the changing beauty of these mountains, clothed in eternal green! Just think, dear, Mount Pisgah, there, is forty miles away, and it looks as if you could stroll over to it in an hour's walk.And there are twenty-three magnificent peaks like that, all of them more than six thousand feet high----"She paused with a frown.He was neither looking nor listening.He had fallen into a brown study; his mind was miles away.
"You're not listening, Jim--nor seeing anything," she said reproachfully.
"No--Kiddo, we must get ready for that trip.I've got a letter for a lawyer downtown.I'll find him and hire a car.I'll be back here for you in an hour.You'll be ready?""Right away, in half an hour----"
"Just pack a suit-case for us both.We'll stay one night.I'll take a bag, too, that I have in my trunk."It was noon before he returned with a staunch touring car ready for the trip.He opened the little steamer trunk which he had always kept locked and took from it a small leather bag.He placed it on the floor, and, in spite of careful handling, the ring of metal inside could be distinctly heard."What on earth have you got in that queer black bag?" she asked insurprise.
"Oh, just a lot o' junk from the shop.I thought I might tinker with it at odd times.I don't want to leave it here.It's got one of my new models in it."He carried the bag in his hand, refusing to allow the porter who came for the suit-case to touch it.
He threw the suit-case in the bottom of the tonneau.The bag he stowed carefully under the cushions of the rear seat.The moment he placed his hand on the wheel of the machine, he was at his best.Every trace of the street gamin fell from him.Again he was the eagle-eyed master of time and space.The machine answered his touch with more than human obedience.He knew how to humor its mood.He conserved its power for a hill with unerring accuracy and threw it over the grades with rarely a pause to change his speeds.He could turn the sharp curves with such swift, easy grace that he scarcely caused Mary's body to swerve an inch.He could sense a rough place in the road and glide over it with velvet touch.
A tire blew out, five miles up the stream from Asheville, and the easy, business-like deliberation with which he removed the old and adjusted the new, was a revelation to Mary of a new phase of his character.
He never once grunted, or swore, or lost his poise, or manifested the slightest impatience.He set about his task coolly, carefully, skillfully, and finished it quickly and silently.
His long silences at last began to worry her.An invisible barrier had reared itself between them.The impression was purely mental--but it was none the less real and distressing.
There was a look of aloof absorption about him she had never seen before.At first she attributed it to the dread of meeting his kinsfolk for the first time, his fear of what they might be like or what they might think of him.
He answered her questions cheerfully but mechanically.Sometimes he stared at her in a cold, impersonal way and gave no answer, as if her questions were an impertinence and she were not of sufficient importance to waste his breath on.
Unable at last to endure the strain, she burst out impatiently: "What on earth's the matter with you, Jim?""Why?" he asked softly.
"You haven't spoken to me in half an hour, and I've asked you two questions.""Just studying about something, Kiddo, something big.I'll tell you sometime, maybe--not now."Slowly a great fear began to shape itself in her heart.The real man behind those slumbering eyes she had never known.Who was he?
