"You _need_ me, anyway, don't you?" he asked with a tender sort of
roughness.
She couldn't answer because she didn't want him to know that he had
made her cry. She kept her face turned from him and hurried along
at his side.
"Why do you go so fearfully fast?" she was forced at last to protest.
"Because I want to get down from this accursed mountain. I want to
get down into the woods again where I was happy."
"Hugh"--she pulled at his arm--"you are only a child after all."
"Perhaps."
"Well--" She stopped. "Go home alone, then. I'll be no worse off than
when you found me the first time. Pete will come out and hunt for
me. He has a far sweeter temper than you, Hugh, and doesn't think
only of himself."
He swung away at that, resting his hand against a big rock to clear
a hole; then, seeing her about to step down into it, he pivoted back,
caught her up bodily in his arms, and, laughing, ran with her down
the hill, bounding over the rocks, leaping over the crevices, while
she clung to him in fright.
"You silly child!" he cried. "This is the way I'll take you home.
Now I've got you, and I'll punish you well, too." She clung to him
and begged him to stop.
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