ou tell me?"

She glanced at him provokingly through her lashes. "Why I tell you?
You just go tell your partners."

"They're no partners of mine," said Sam bitterly. "I should think you
could see that. I'm just their cook. I work for my grub. They don't
let me forget it either."

"Why you come to this country?" asked Bela.

"I want a piece of land the same as they do. But I've got to work to
earn an outfit before I can settle."

"When you get your land what you do then?" she asked.

"Build a house, raise crops."

"White man all want land to dig," said Bela wonderingly.

"You've got to have land," explained Sam eagerly. "You've got to have
something of your own. Outside, a poor man has no chance nowadays but
to slave away his best years working for a rich man."

Bela studied his face, trying to grasp these ideas so new to her.

"How did you get out of the shack?" Sam asked her again.

"I tell you," she said abruptly. "I climb the chimney."

"By George!" he exclaimed admiringly.

"It was easy. But I get all black. I am all day cleaning myself
after."

"You're a wonder!" he cried. "Travelling about alone and all. Are all
the girls up here like you?"

"No," replied Bela quaintly. "There is nobody lak me. I am Bela."

"Where do you live?"

She looked at him again through her lashes. "Maybe I tell you when I
know you better."

"Tell me now," he pleaded.

She shook her head.

Sam frowned. "There's generally no good behind a mystery," he
remarked.

"Maybe," said Bela. "But I not goin' tell all I know."

There was something highly exasperating to a young man in her cool,
smiling air. He stood looking at her, feeling oddly flat and baffled.

Suddenly she turned her head to listen. "They gettin' up now," she
said quickly. "Go and wash."

"Can't I speak to you if I am the cook?" he demanded.

"Go and wash," she repeated. "I don' want no more trouble."

Sam shrugged and walked stiffly away. He had plenty to occupy his mind
while he shaved. His sensations were much mixed. In her subtle way
the girl allured, mystified, and angered him all at once. Anger had
the last word.

He would like to show her if he was the cook that he wasn't to be
trifled with. He felt as if the most important thing in life was to
solve the mystery that enshrouded her. However, the invigorating touch
of cold water brought about a reaction. Violently scrubbing himself
with the towel, he came to a sudden stop and addressed hims