r doping this out around that
fire--or have you got some other little thing in there you are keeping
incog as it were?"

Refreshed and unabashed he grinned at them.

But Barry did not offer his fire.

"You'd better cut on before you are discovered," he advised. "It's a
long way to go--like Tipperary. And I'll hurry off to Peter's place.
. . . You strike over that shoulder there and down the trail to the
right and you'll find the main road. It's shorter than the river.
Besides you can't use the river trail or you would have found me. . . .
Now mind--don't change a word of it."

"Sure, I've got it down. Well, I'll be off then!"

But Johnny was not off. He hesitated a moment, turning very obviously to
Maria Angelina, who stood silent upon the doorstep, and it was Barry who
took himself suddenly off around the corner of the cabin, with a plate
of scraps for the vociferous Sandy.

Embarrassedly Johnny muttered, "I say, Ri-Ri, I'm sorry."

Her expression did not change. She said levelly, "I'm sorry, too. I did
not understand."

"I didn't understand, either."

Both stood silent. Then he spoke in a hurried, even a flurried way in a
very low tone indeed.

"But I--I didn't mean to be a quitter. Look here, I didn't realize that
it was just the look of things you were after and not my--my----"

"Your money, Signor?" said Ri-Ri clearly.

He grew red. "I've got some queer experiences," he jerked out.

"I should think, Signor, that you would."

"Oh, hang that Signor! I don't blame you for being a frost, Ri-Ri, for I
guess I was pretty rotten to you--but I wasn't throwing you
down--honestly. I was just mulish, I guess, because you were trying to
stampede me. And I was fighting mad over the entire business and had to
take it out on somebody. If you'd just laughed and petted a fellow a
little----"

He broke off and looked at her hopefully.

Maria Angelina gave no signs of warmth. Her eyes were enigmatic as black
diamonds; and her mouth was a red bud of scorn. Her dignity was immense
for all that her braids had come down from their coronet and were
hanging childishly about her shoulders; the loose strands fluttering
about her face.

Johnny wanted to put his hands out and touch them. And he wanted to grip
the small shoulders beneath that middy blouse and shake them out of that
aloof perverseness . . . they had been such soft, nestling shoulders
last night. . . .

"You know I--I'm really crazy about you," he said qui