"
"Why is it absurd? Is there any danger?" queried Mrs. Falchion.
"Not unless there's an idiot at the machinery."
"I should expect you to manage it," she persisted.
"But no woman has ever done it."
"I will make the record." And, turning to Ruth: "You are not afraid?"
"No, I am not afraid," said the girl bravely, though she acknowledged to
me afterwards that while she was not afraid of anything where her own
skill was called in question, such as mountain-climbing, or even
puma-hunting, she did not joyfully anticipate swinging between heaven and
earth on that incline. "I will go," she added, "if my father will let me.
. . . May I?" she continued, turning to him.
Perhaps something of the father's pride came up in him, perhaps he had
just got some suspicion that between his daughter and Mrs. Falchion there
was a subterranean rivalry. However it was, he gave a quick, quizzical
look at both of them, then glanced at Roscoe, and said: "I'll make no
objections, if Ruth would like to introduce you to Phil. And, as Mrs.
Falchion suggested, I'll 'turn the crank.'"
I could see that Roscoe had a bad moment.
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