those," he exclaimed. "I think you would fight with your
eyes. O'Connor told me they half killed Kedsty when you met them in the
poplar grove yesterday."

He had expected that the mention of Inspector Kedsty's name would
disturb her. It had no effect that he could perceive.

"O'Connor was the big, red-faced man with Mr. Kedsty?"

"Yes, my trail partner. He came to me yesterday and raved about your
eyes. They ARE beautiful; I've never seen eyes half so lovely. But that
wasn't what struck Bucky so hard. It was the effect they had on Kedsty.
He said they shattered every nerve in Kedsty's body, and Kedsty isn't
the sort to get easily frightened. And the queer part of it was that
the instant you had gone, he gave O'Connor an order to free
McTrigger--and then turned and followed you. All the rest of that day
O'Connor tried to discover something about you at the Landing. He
couldn't find hide nor hair--I beg pardon!--I mean he couldn't find out
anything about you at all. We made up our minds that for some reason or
other you were hiding up at Kedsty's bungalow. You don't mind a fellow
saying all this--when he is going to pop off soon--do you?"

He was half frightened at the directness with which he had expressed
the thing. He would gladly have buried his own curiosity and all of
O'Connor's suspicions for another moment of her hand on his forehead.
But it was out, and he waited.

She was looking down, her fingers twisting some sort of tasseled dress
ornament in her lap, and Kent mentally measured the length of her
lashes with a foot rule in mind. They were superb, and in the thrill of
his admiration he would have sworn they were an inch long. She looked
up suddenly and caught the glow in his eyes and the flush that lay
under the tan of his cheeks. Her own color had deepened a little.

"What if you shouldn't die?" she asked him bluntly, as if she had not
heard a word of all he had said about Kedsty. "What would you do?"

"I'm going to."

"But if you shouldn't?"

Kent shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I'd have to take my medicine.
You're not going?"

She had straightened up and was sitting on the edge of her chair. "Yes,
I'm going. I'm afraid of my eyes. I may look at you as I looked at Mr.
Kedsty, and then--pop you'd go, quick! And I don't want to be here when
you die!"

He heard a soft little note of laughter in her throat. It sent a chill
through him. What an adorable, blood-thirsty little wretch she was! He
sta