GUESTS OF THE FORESTS 49 



Everybody laughed. Bett looked up at Bill. The firelight accented the 

 hollows at her cheekbones, the hollows under her eyes, marks of long hours 

 at the mill. She cocked a saucy brow and winked. "Don't worry. We'll get 

 your old kerosene." 



Laughter rang out. They soon were back. The fire leaped high. Other 

 campers drifted down to the warmth of the fire and the people. 



Bill still was moody. He kept jumping up from Sue's side and piling more 

 wood on the fire. Sue's eyes followed his every movement. She sought to 

 reclaim him: 



"Guess what, Bill?" 



"What?" 



"We brought the vie!" 



"Say, that's somethin'. That's what we'll do. After this, we'll take it 

 over to the Boy Scouts' shack and dance." 



She nodded. 



Someone started to sing: "I've been working on the railroad, all the live- 

 long day." . . . Most of them took up the song. But Bill was silent and so 

 was Sue. They sat on logs up front in the small council-fire amphitheater, 

 close to the fire. The fire cast yellow light inside the foremost ring and a deep 

 leaping shadow back from there. The families withdrew as the evening 

 deepened. Children grew cold and cried to be taken in. Parents grew cold 

 and were glad to creep under wool and canvas with their young. Only four 

 of us, blanketed like Indians, remained at the council fire when Sue and 

 Bill left it. 



"Well, what are we sittin' here for?" Bill asked abruptly. 



Sue put her hand on his arm. She told him in a whisper to "remember 

 what we said." 



He muttered something. 



"Bill, don't be like that! Look, I got to finish school! I got to! 

 This one year more and it'll be all over and then I'll get a job and we'll be 

 all set." 



"Sure, I know. You're all right, kid !" he said. 



"Come on. Let's go in, Bill. It's cold out here. Come on. Let's go in and 

 dance." 



