"They are all good to me; they are all kind to me." Her voice was quiet and steady. She had gained control of herself again. "Why, even John the Chinaman," she added with a laugh, "spoils me. Oh, no harm can come to me--I have no fear!"
"But," said Cameron, "I--I want to take care of you, Mandy. I want the right to take care of you, always."
"I know, I know," she said kindly. "You are so good; you were always so good; but I need no one."
Cameron glanced at the lithe, strong, upright figure striding along beside him with easy grace; and the truth came to him in swift and painful revelation.
"You are right," he said as if to himself. "You need no one, and you don't need me."
"But," she cried eagerly, "it was good of you all the same."
"Good!" he said impatiently. "Good! Nonsense! I tell you, Mandy, I want you, I want you. Do you understand? I want to marry you."
"Oh, don't say that!" she cried, stopping short, her voice disturbed, but kindly, gentle and strong. "Don't say that," she repeated, "for, of course, that is impossible."
"Impossible!" he exclaimed angrily.
"Yes," she said, her voice still quiet and steady, "quite impossible. But I love you for saying it, oh--," she suddenly caught her breath. "Oh, I love you for saying it." Then pointing up the road she cried, "Look! Some one for you, I am sure." A horseman was galloping swiftly towards them.
"Oh hang it all!" said Cameron. "What the deuce does he want now?"
"We must talk this out again, Mandy," he said.
"No, no!" she cried, "never again. Please don't, ever again; I could not bear it. But I shall always remember, and--I am so glad." As she spoke, her hands, with her old motion, went to her heart.
"Oh the deuce take it!" said Cameron as the Sergeant flung his horse back on his heels at their side. "What does he want?"
"Constable Cameron," said the Sergeant in a voice of sharp command, "there's a row on. Constable Scott has been very badly handled in trying to make an arrest. You are to report at once for duty."
"All right, Sir," said Cameron, "I shall return immediately."
The Sergeant wheeled and was gone.
"You must go!" cried Mandy, quick fear springing into her eyes.
"Yes," said Cameron, "at once. Come, I shall take you home."
"No, never mind me!" she cried. "Go! Go! I can take care of myself. I shall follow." Her voice rang out strong and clear; she was herself once more.
"You are the right sort, Mandy," cried Cameron, taking her hand.
"Good bye!"
"Good bye!" she replied, her face suddenly pale and her lips beginning to quiver. "I shall always remember--I--shall--always be glad for--what you said today."
Cameron stood looking at her for a moment somewhat uncertainly, then, "Good bye!" he said abruptly, and, turning, went at the double towards his quarters.
The strikers had indeed broken loose, supported by the ruffianly horde of camp followers who were egging them on to violence and destruction of property. At present they were wild with triumph over the fact that they had rescued one of their leaders, big Joe Coyle, from Constable Scott. It was an exceedingly dangerous situation, for the riot might easily spread from camp to camp.
Bruised and bloody, Constable Scott reported to Superintendent Strong lying upon his sick bed.
"Sergeant," said the Superintendent, "take Constables Cameron and Scott, arrest that man at once and bring him here!"
In the village they found between eight hundred and a thousand men, many of them crazed with bad whiskey, some armed with knives and some with guns, and all ready for blood. Big Joe Coyle they found in the saloon. Pushing his way through, the Sergeant seized his man by the collar.
"Come along, I want you!" he said, dragging him to the open door.
"Shut that there door, Hep!" drawled a man with a goatee and a moustache dyed glossy black.
"All right, Bill!" shouted the man called Hep, springing to the door; but before he could make it Cameron had him by the collar.
"Hold on, Hep!" he said, "not so fast."
For answer Hep struck hard at him and the crowd of men threw themselves at Cameron and between him and the door. Constable Scott, who also had his hand upon the prisoner, drew his revolver and looked towards the Sergeant who was struggling in the grasp of three or four ruffians.
"No!" shouted the Sergeant above the uproar. "Don't shoot--we have no orders! Let him go!"
"Go on!" he said savagely, giving his prisoner a final shake. "We will come back for you."
There was a loud chorus of derisive cheers. The crowd opened and allowed the Sergeant and constables to pass out. Taking his place at the saloon door with Constable Scott, the Sergeant sent Cameron to report and ask for further orders.
"Ask if we have orders to shoot," said the Sergeant.
Cameron found the Superintendent hardly able to lift his head and made his report.
"The saloon is filled with men who oppose the arrest, Sir. What are your orders?"
"My orders are, Bring that man here, and at once!"
"Have we instructions to shoot?"
"Shoot!" cried the Superintendent, lifting himself on his elbow.
"Bring that man if you have to shoot every man in the saloon!"
"Very well, Sir, we will bring him," said Cameron, departing on a run.
At the door of the saloon he found the Sergeant and Constable white hot under the jeers and taunts of the half drunken gang gathered about them.
"What are the orders, Constable Cameron?" enquired the Sergeant in a loud voice.
"The orders are, Shoot every man in the saloon if necessary!" shouted Cameron.
"Revolvers!" commanded the Sergeant. "Constable Cameron, hold the door! Constable Scott, follow me!"
At the door stood the man named Hep, evidently keeping guard.
"Want in?" he said with a grin.
For answer, Cameron gripped his collar, with one fierce jerk lifted him clear out of the door to the platform, and then, putting his body into it, heaved him with a mighty swing far into the crowd below, bringing two or three men to the ground with the impact of his body.
