“I’ve thought of all that; you just let him see this.” He drew a bottle from beneath the seat. “You know what he’ll do to this; it’s the strongest corn whisky I could find.”

“Oh, Bob! I’m a-scairt to.”

“Don’t you love me?” His young eyes looked reproach.

Sally threw both arms about the boy’s neck and drew his head down to her lips. Then she pushed him from her.

“Bob, is it so what the men-folks all say, that the railroad gives you a hundred dollars every month?”

He laughed. “Yes, you dear girl, and more. I get a hundred and a quarter, and I’ve been getting it for two years in this God-forsaken country, and nothing to spend it on. I’ve got over a thousand dollars saved up.”

The woman’s eyes widened. She kissed the boy on the mouth.

“They ’lows as how you’re the smartest engineer on the road.”

The boy’s head was held high.

Sally made some mental calculations before she spoke again.

“Oh, Bob, I jes’ cain’t. I’m a-scairt to.”

He caught her to him. A man of longer experience might have noted the sham in her reluctance.

“My darling, what are you afraid of?” he cried.

“What air we a-goin’ to do after we gits to Mobile?”

“Oh, I’ve thought of everything. They’re building a new line down in Texas. We’ll go there. I’ll get another job as resident engineer. I have my profession,” he ended proudly.

“You might git tired, and want to git shed of me Bob.”

He smothered her words under fierce kisses. His young heart beat at bursting pressure. In bright colours he pictured the glory of Mobile, New Orleans, and all the world that lay before them to love each other in.

When Sally left the boat she had promised to come. Where the pine-trees meet the cane-brake he would be waiting for her, at midnight.

At the top of the bank she turned to wave.

“Wait! Wait! called the boy. He rushed up the slope.

“Quit, Bob, you’re hurtin’ me.” She tore herself from his arms and hastened back along the slimy path. When she reached the pinewood she paused.

“More’n a thousand dollars!” she murmured, and a slow, satisfied smile crossed her shrewd face.

The sun, now directly over the tops of the trees, shot its scorching rays through the foliage. They struck the earth in vertical shafts, heating it to the burning point. Not a breath stirred the glistening pine-needles on the towering branches. It was one of those noon-times which, in the moisture-charged air of southern Alabama, makes life a steaming hell to all living things save reptiles and lovers.