Her hand gripped the coarse
shirt-sleeve in determination to compel him to speak.
"Answer me or I'll scream!"
He chuckled grimly, not in the least alarmed.
"Little good that'll do yer now, young woman," he said gruffly, and the
driver turned his head at the sound, "unless yer voice will carry five
miles or so; where are we now, Matt?"
"Comin' down ter the Big Slough," answered the other, expectorating
over the wheel, and flickering a horse with his whip-lash. "'Twouldn't
do no harm now ter fasten back the canvas, Joe; maybe she'd feel a bit
more ter home that away."
There was a good-natured drawl to the voice which had a tendency to
hearten the girl. The driver seemed human, sympathetic: perhaps he
would respond to questioning. The other merely grunted, and began to
unloosen the cover. She leaned forward, and addressed the rounded back
of the fellow in front.
"Are you Mr. Moore?"
He wheeled partly about, surprised into acknowledgment.
"Well, I ain't heered the mister part fer some time, but my name's Matt
Moore, though, how the hell did you know it?"
"The other man called you by name--don't you remember? Besides I had
heard about you before.
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