“There’s no other girl like you to make them.” Then, holding her from him, he went on fiercely: “You don’t let any of them try it, do you?”

Sally smiled up into his glowing eyes.

“You knows I don’t. They’d be afeard of Jim.”

The blood rushed to the boy’s cheeks, his arms dropped to his side; he stood sobered.

“Sally, we can’t go on this way any longer. That’s why I asked you to come to the river to-day.”

“What’s a-goin’ to stop us?” A frightened look crossed the woman’s face.

“I’m going away.”

She made a quick step toward him.

“You ain’t lost your job on the new railroad?”

“No. Come down to the boat where we can talk this over.”

He helped her down the bank of the creek to a flat-bottomed skiff, and seated her in the stern with a touch of courtesy before taking the cross seat facing her.

“No, I haven’t lost my job,” he began earnestly, “but my section of the road is about finished. They’ll move me to another residency farther up the line in about a week.”

She sat silent a moment, her black eyes wide with question. He searched them for some sign of sorrow.

“What kin I do after you air gone?”

There was a hopeless note in her voice; it pleased the boy.

“That’s the point: instead of letting them move me, I’m going to move myself.” He paused that she might get the full meaning of his coming words.

“I’m going away from here to-night, and I’m going to take you with me.”

“No, no! I dasn’t!” She shrank before his steady gaze.

He moved swiftly across to her. Throwing his arms around her, he poured out his words.

“Yes! You will! You must! You love me, don’t you?”

Sally nodded in helpless assent.

“Better than anything in this world?”

Again Sally nodded.

“Then listen. To-night at twelve you come to the river. I’ll be waiting for you at the edge of the swamp. We’ll row down to Brewton. We can easily catch the six-twenty to Mobile, and, once there, we’ll begin to live,” he finished grandly.

“But I can’t! Air you crazy? How kin I git away an’ Jim right in the house?”