--it was too fresh, and we'd have
seen the torn-up earth; because we had passed no camp; and because I
knew there was no shanty here. And, besides," she added in a low voice,
"may be I was huntin' a hole myself to die in--and spotted it by
instinct."

There was something in this suggestion of a hunted animal that, unlike
anything she had previously said or suggested, was not exaggerated, and
caused the young man to look at her again. She was standing under the
chimney-like opening, and the light from above illuminated her head and
shoulders. The pupils of her eyes had lost their feverish prominence,
and were slightly suffused and softened as she gazed abstractedly
before her. The only vestige of her previous excitement was in her
left-hand fingers, which were incessantly twisting and turning a
diamond ring upon her right hand, but without imparting the least
animation to her rigid attitude. Suddenly, as if conscious of his
scrutiny, she stepped aside out of the revealing light, and by a swift
feminine instinct raised her hand to her head as if to adjust her
straggling hair. It was only for a moment, however, for, as if aware of
the weakness, she struggled to resume her aggressive pose.

"Well," she said. "Speak up. Am I goin' to stop here, or have I got to
get up and get?"

"You can stay," said the young man quietly; "but as I've got my
provisions and ammunition here, and haven't any other place to go to
just now, I suppose we'll have to share it together."

She glanced at him under her eyelids, and a half-bitter,
half-contemptuous smile passed across her face. "All right, old man,"
she said, holding out her hand, "it's a go. We'll start in housekeeping
at once, if you like."

"I'll have to come here once or twice a day," he said, quite
composedly, "to look after my things, and get something to eat; but
I'll be away most of the time, and what with camping out under the
trees every night I reckon my share won't incommode you."

She opened her black eyes upon him, at this original proposition. Then
she looked down at her torn dress. "I suppose this style of thing ain't
very fancy, is it?" she said, with a forced laugh.

"I think I know where to beg or borrow a change for you, if you can't
get any," he replied simply.

She stared at him again. "Are you a family man?"

"No."

She was silent for a moment. "Well," she said, "you can tell your girl
I'm not particular about its being in the latest fashion."

Ther