"Where do you live?" Jack asked the girl, illustrating with elaborate
pantomime.

She merely shook her head. They might decide as they choose whether
she did not understand or did not mean to tell.

Husky came in with a pail of water. The sanguine Husky was almost as
visibly ardent as Joe. He rummaged in his bag at the far end of the
cabin, and reappeared in the firelight bearing an orange silk
handkerchief. His intention was unmistakable.

"You put that up, Husky!" came an angry voice from the bed. "If I've
got to stay away from her, you've got to, too!"

Husky turned, snarling. "I guess this is mine, ain't it? I can give it
away if I want."

"Not if I know!" cried Joe, springing toward him. They faced each
other in the middle of the room with bared teeth.

Big Jack rose again. "Put it away, Husky," he commanded. "This is a
free field and no favour. If you want to push yourself forward at our
expense you got to settle with us first, see?"

The others loudly approved of this. Husky, disgruntled, thrust the
handkerchief in his pocket.

After the two overweening spirits had been rebuked, matters in the
shack went quietly for a while. The four men watched the girl, full of
wonder; meanwhile each kept an eye on his mates.

It was their first experience at close range with a girl of the
country, and they could not make her out at all. Her sole interest
seemed to be upon the fire. This air of indifference at once provoked
and baffled them. They could not reconcile it with the impish tricks
she had played.

They could not understand a girl alone in a crowd of men betraying no
self-consciousness. "Touch me at your peril," she seemed to say; but
if that was the way she felt, what had she come for?

Sam brought his basin of flour to the hearth and, kneeling in the
firelight, proceeded to mix the dough. After the manner of amateur
cooks, he liberally plastered his hands and arms with the sticky mess.

The girl watched him with a scornful lip. Suddenly she dropped to her
knees beside him, and without so much as "By your leave," took the
basin out of his hands. She showed him how it ought to be done,
flouring her hands so the batter would not stick, and tossing up the
mess with the light, deft touch of long experience. At the sight of
Sam's discomfiture a roar of laughter went up from the others.

"Guess you're out of a job now, cookee," said Shand.

"Now we'll have something to eat besides lead sinkers," added Jo