"He's been following you all the way,''said the engineer.
"Who's been following us?''I asked.
"That's Mart up there--my friend and yours,''said Marston to the Blight."I'm rather glad I didn't meet you on the other side of the mountain--that's `the Wild Dog.'''The Blight looked incredulous,but Marston knew the man and knew the horse.
So Mart--hard-working Mart--was the Wild Dog,and he was content to do the Blight all service without thanks,merely for the privilege of secretly seeing her face now and then;and yet he would not look upon that face when she was a guest under his roof and asleep.
Still,when we dropped behind the two girls I gave Marston the Hon.Sam's warning,and for a moment he looked rather grave.
"Well,''he said,smiling,"if I'm found in the road some day,you'll know who did it.''
I shook my head."Oh,no;he isn't that bad.''
"I don't know,''said Marston.
The smoke of the young engineer's coke ovens lay far below us and the Blight had never seen a coke-plant before.It looked like Hades even in the early dusk--the snake-like coil of fiery ovens stretching up the long,deep ravine,and the smoke-streaked clouds of fire,trailing like a yellow mist over them,with a fierce white blast shooting up here and there when the lid of an oven was raised,as though to add fresh temperature to some particular male-factor in some particular chamber of torment.
Humanity about was joyous,however.