"She has kept house for me!"

He pointed out Lou's tent to his companion and the big man, with a
single low word of warning, threw open the flap of the tent and strode
in.

There was only the split part of a second between the rising and the
fall of the canvas, but in that swift interval, Donnegan saw the girl
starting up to receive Landis. Her calm was broken at last. Her cheeks
were flushed; her eyes were starry with what? Expectancy? Love?

It stopped Donnegan like a blow in the face and turned his heart to
lead; and then, shamelessly, he glided around the tent and dropped down
beside it to eavesdrop. After all, there was some excuse. If she loved
the man he, Donnegan, would let him live; if she did not love him, he,
Donnegan, would kill him like a worthless rat under heel. That is, if he
could. No wonder that the wanderer listened with heart and soul!

He missed the first greeting. It was only a jumble of exclamations, but
now he heard: "But, Lou, what a wild idea. Across the mountains--with
whom?"

"The man who brought you here."

"Who's he?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? He looks like a shifty little rat to me."