uaw who was braiding her
hair, and who was young and fresh-cheeked and bright-eyed and slender,
forgot her the instant his eyes left her, and made haste to return to
the Malad and the girl who held all his thoughts and all his desire.

That girl was sitting upon the rock which Donny had occupied, and she
looked very much as if she were sulking, much as Donny had sulked. She
had her chin in a pink palm and was digging little holes in the sand
with the tip of her rod, which was not at all beneficial to the rod and
did not appear even to interest the digger; for her wonderfully blue
eyes were staring at the green-and-white churn of the rapids, and
her lips were pursed moodily, as if she did not even see what she was
looking at so fixedly.

Good Indian's eyes were upon her while he was dismounting, but he did
not go to her immediately. Instead, he busied himself with unsaddling,
and explained to the boys just why he had left so unaccountably.
Secretly he was hoping that Evadna heard the explanation, and he raised
his voice purposely. But Evadna was not listening, apparently; and, if
she had been, the noise of the rapids would have prevented her hearing
what he said.

Miss Georgie Howard was frying fish and consistently snubbing
Baumberger, who hulked loosely near the campfire, and between puffs
at his pipe praised heavily her skill, and professed to own a ravenous
appetite. Good Indian heard him as he passed close by them, and heard
also the keen thrust she gave in return; and he stopped and half
turned, looking at her with involuntary appreciation. His glance took
in Baumberger next, and he lifted a shoulder and went on. Without
intentionally resorting to subterfuge, he felt an urge to wash his
hands, and he chose for his ablutions that part of the river's edge
which was nearest Evadna.

First he stooped and drank thirstily, his hat pushed back, while his
lips met full the hurrying water, clear and cold, yet with the chill it
had brought from the mountain springs which fed it, and as he lifted his
head he looked full at her.

Evadna stared stonily over him to where the water boiled fastest. He
might have been one of the rocks, for all the notice she took of him.

Good Indian frowned with genuine puzzlement, and began slowly to wash
his hands, glancing at her often in hope that he might meet her eyes.
When she did not seem to see him at all, the smile of a secret shared
joyously with her died from his own eyes, and w