CRIMSON MOUNTAIN Read Free Page A

onto a cattle road where they had no right to be! If they got frightened or hurt, it was their own fault. There was a sign at both ends of this road, and surely anybody in this age of the world could read. And if this was an accident, it wasn’t
their
accident, and they had no time to stop. It was their business to prevent an accident of their own. And so they presently passed on.
    It seemed hardly credible that the wild, teeming creatures were gone, and the two were alone at last. Then suddenly Laurel realized that she was in the arms of a strange young man! She opened frightened eyes, almost afraid to break this blessed silence that had left them there together, alive and safe.
    Pilgrim looked down at her with troubled eyes.
    “Are you all right?” he asked in a low tone, almost as if those departed steers were enemies who might hear and return.
    The touch of his arms around her, the tone of his voice, thrilled Laurel as nothing had ever done before, but the only reply she seemed able to make was a trembling nod. She was not a girl given to thrills or to tears, but suddenly she felt tears coming and knew they would greatly complicate the scene. She must not let them come. He would think she was a fool. She closed her eyes quickly to drive them back, but two great tears rolled out and down her cheeks.
    “You are hurt!” he charged anxiously. “Did one of those beasts touch you? Did their horns reach you anywhere? I tried hard to cover you. Where are you hurt?”
    “No, no, I am not hurt,” she protested quickly, struggling to rise. “I was only frightened and kind of shaken up. It is silly, of course. But you were wonderful. You saved my life! You can put me down now. I’m quite all right!”
    “That’s good,” said Pilgrim. “I’m
glad
. But I guess we won’t let you down on this steep hillside. Listen! What was that?”
    He lifted his head alertly and looked back toward the curve around which the cattle had come so suddenly. Then his face grew serious. “We must get out of here before another bunch of cattle comes,” he said sternly. “There are two more farmers up here where they raise a few cows, and when one of the three gets a bunch ready to ship, the other two try to send some at the same time. This is the cattle path straight down to the railroad junction. They have probably arranged to have the four o’clock train stop and take on their stock. That’s the way it used to be when I lived up this way. Are you quite sure you are all right?” He gave her another intense look.
    Then, without giving her opportunity to answer, he strode firmly down to the road with Laurel still in his arms, gave one quick glance behind and ahead, and put her in the seat of his own car.

Chapter 2
    W e’ll have to get off this road before any more steers come,” said Pilgrim anxiously as he swung in behind the wheel of this car, slammed the door shut, and began to back and cut, back and cut, to turn around in the narrow road. “You won’t mind riding to the village in my old roadster?”
    “Of course not,” said Laurel, struggling for her normal self-control. “You’ve been wonderfully kind. I don’t know what I should have done if you hadn’t come along. I wouldn’t have been here long enough to do anything. Those creatures would likely have trampled me to death. I was simply petrified! I couldn’t have moved an inch. You saved my life!”
    He gave her a quick look.
    “I’m glad I was here!” he said crisply. “I almost didn’t come this way.”
    “God must have sent you,” said Laurel reverently.
    “Maybe,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve never had much to do with God!”
    “Neither have I,” said Laurel soberly, her eyes very thoughtful. “But I’ve heard people say He cares.”
    “Could be,” said the young man cryptically. “But I’ve never seen reason in my life to think He cared. Still, if He were going to care for anybody, I should think He might care for you!”
    Suddenly he lifted