"Oh, Peter," she wailed, "I am not a hysterical idiot, but Icouldn't have stood it if that coat had been yours. Peter, Ijust couldn't have borne it!"Peter held himself rigidly in the fear that he might disturb the hands that were gripping him.
"I see I have the job of educating these damned field mice as to where they may build with impunity," he said soberly.
But Linda was not to be diverted. She looked straight and deep into his eyes.
"Peter," she said affirmatively, "you don't know a thing about that coat, do you?""I do not," said Peter promptly.
"You never saw what was in its pockets, did you?""Not to my knowledge," answered Peter. "What was in the pockets, Linda?"Linda thought swiftly. Peter adored his dream house. If she told him that the plans for it had been stolen by his architect, the house would be ruined for Peter. Anyone could see from the candor of his gaze and the lines that God and experience had graven on his face that Peter was without guile. Suddenly Linda shot her hands past Peter's shoulders and brought them together on the back of his neck. She drew his face against hers and cried: "Oh Peter, I would have been killed if that coat had been yours. I tell you I couldn't have endured it, Peter. I am just tickled to death!"One instant she hugged him tight. If her lips did not brush his cheek, Peter deluded himself. Then she sprang up and ran from the garage. Later he took the coat from its nail, the papers from its pockets, and carefully looked them over. There was nothing among them that would give him the slightest clue to Linda's conduct. He looked again, penetratingly, searchingly, for he must learn from them a reason; and no reason was apparent.
With the coat in one hand and the papers in the other he stepped outside.
"Linda," he said, "won't you show me? Won't you tell me? What is there about this to upset you?"Linda closed her lips and shook her head. Once more Peter sought in her face, in her attitude the information he craved.
"Needn't tell me," he said, "that a girl who will face the desert and the mountains and the canyons and the sea is upset by a mouse.""Well, you should have seen Katy sitting in the midst of our supper with her feet rigidly extended before her!" cried the girl, struggling to regain her composure. "Put back that coat and come to your supper. It's time for you to be fed now. The last workman has gone and we'll barely have time to finish nicely and show Katy your dream house before it's time to go."Peter came and sat in the place Linda indicated. His mind was whirling. There was something he did not understand, but in her own time, in her own way, a girl of Linda's poise and self-possession would tell him what had occurred that could be responsible for the very peculiar things she had done. In some way she had experienced a shock too great for her usual self-possession. The hands with which she fished pickled onions from the bottle were still unsteady, and the corroboration Peter needed for his thoughts could be found in the dazed way in which Katy watched Linda as she hovered over her in serving her. But that was not the time. By and by the time would come. The thing to do was to trust Linda and await its coming. So Peter called on all the reserve wit and wisdom he had at command. He jested, told stories, and to Linda's satisfaction and Katy's delight, he ate his supper like a hungry man, frankly enjoying it, and when the meal was finished Peter took Katy over the house, explaining to her as much detail as was possible at that stage of its construction, while Linda followed with mute lips and rebellion surging in her heart. When leaving time came, while Katy packed the Bear Cat, Linda wandered across toward the spring, and Peter, feeling that possibly she might wish to speak with him, followed her. When he overtook her she looked at him straightly, her eyes showing the hurt her heart felt.
"Peter," she said, "that first night you had dinner with us, was Henry Anderson out of your presence one minute from the time you came into the house until you left it?"Peter stopped and studied the ground at his feet intently.
Finally he said conclusively: "I would go on oath, Linda, that he was not. We were all together in the living room, all together in the dining room. We left together at night and John was with us.""I see," said Linda. "Well, then, when you came back the next morning after Eileen, before you started on your trip, to hunt a location, was he with you all the time?"Again Peter took his time to answer.
"We came to your house with Gilman," he said. "John started to the front door to tell Miss Eileen that we were ready. Ifollowed him. Anderson said he would look at the scenery. He must have made a circuit of the house, because when we came out ready to start, a very few minutes later, he was coming down the other side of the house.""Ah," said Linda comprehendingly.
"Linda," said Peter quietly, "it is very obvious that something has worried you extremely. Am I in any way connected with it?"Linda shook her head.
"Is there anything I can do?"
The negative was repeated. Then she looked at him.
"No, Peter," she said quietly, "I confess I have had a shock, but it is in no way connected with you and there is nothing you can do about it but forget my foolishness. But I am glad--Peter, you will never know how glad I am--that you haven't anything to do with it."Then in the friendliest fashion imaginable she reached him her hand and led the way back to the Bear Cat, their tightly gripped hands swinging between them. As Peter closed the door he looked down on Linda.
