gone with
Rabbit at a sliding trot down the slope that kept the ridge between him
and the pinnacle. She stood staring after him blankly, her hat askew on
the back of her head, and her lips parted in futile astonishment. She did
not in the least realize just what Starr's extreme caution had meant. She
had no inkling of the real gravity of the situation, for her ignorance of
the lawless possibilities of that big, bare country insulated her against
understanding.

What struck her most forcibly was the cool manner in which he had ordered
her to act a part, and the unhesitating manner in which she had obeyed
him. He ordered her about, she thought, as though he had a right; and she
obeyed as though she recognized that right.

She watched him as long as he was in sight, and tried to guess where he
was going and what he meant to do, and what was his business--what he did
for a living. He must be a rancher, since he had said he was looking for
stock; but it was queer he had never told her where his ranch lay, or how
far off it was, or anything about it.

After a little it occurred to her that Starr would want the man who had
shot at him to think she had left that neighborhood, so she called to
Pat and had him drive the goats around where they could not be seen from
the pinnacle.

Then she sat down and ate her sandwiches thoughtfully, with long,
meditative intervals between bites. She regarded the pinto curiously,
wondering if Starr had really taken him as security for a debt, and
wishing that she had asked him what its name was. It was queer, the way
he rode up unexpectedly every few days, always bringing something he
thought she needed, and seeming to take it for granted that she would
accept everything he offered. It was much queerer that she did accept
everything without argument or hesitation. For that matter, everything
that concerned Starr was queer, from Helen May's point of view.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HELEN MAY UNDERSTANDS

Pat, lying at her feet and licking his lips contentedly after his bone
and the crusts of her sandwich, raised his head suddenly and rumbled a
growl somewhere deep in his chest. His upper lip lifted and showed his
teeth wickedly, and the hair on the back of his neck stood out in a ruff
that made him look a different dog.

Helen May felt a cold shiver all up and down her spine. She had never
seen Pat, nor any other dog for that matter, look like that. It was much
more terrifying than that