on every side but the sheltered east, the black waters of the lagoon.
Late Sunday night the mule again swam the slimy lagoon, and disappeared
toward the Cresswell fields. Then Bles sat down beside Zora, facing the
fields, and gravely took her hand. She looked at him in quick,
breathless fear.

"Zora," he said, "sometimes you tell lies, don't you?"

"Yes," she said slowly; "sometimes."

"And, Zora, sometimes you steal--you stole the pin from Miss Taylor, and
we stole Mr. Cresswell's mule for two days."

"Yes," she said faintly, with a perplexed wrinkle in her brows, "I stole
it."

"Well, Zora, I don't want you ever to tell another lie, or ever to take
anything that doesn't belong to you."

She looked at him silently with the shadow of something like terror far
back in the depths of her deep eyes.

"Always--tell--the truth?" she repeated slowly.

"Yes."

Her fingers worked nervously.

"All the truth?" she asked.