The girl caught the sound, and, turning with the quickness of a wild
creature, caught the sadness in his face. It seemed to drive away much of
her fear and resentment. A half-flicker of a smile came to her lips as
their eyes met. It seemed to recognize a comradeship in sorrow. But her
face hardened again almost at once into disapproval as he answered her
look.

The man felt a passing disappointment. After a minute, during which the
girl had dropped her eyes to her work again, he said: "Now, why did you
look at me in that way? Ought I to be helping you in some way? I'm
awkward, I know, but I can obey if you'll just tell me how."

The girl seemed puzzled; then she replied almost sullenly:

"There's nothing more to do. It's ready to eat."

She gave him a piece of the meat and the last of the corn bread in the tin
cup, and placed the pan of beans beside him; but she did not attempt to
eat anything herself.

He took a hungry bite or two, and looked furtively at her.

"I insist upon knowing why you looked--" he paused and eyed her--"why you
look at me in that way. I'm not a wolf if I am hungry, and I'm not going
to eat you up."

The look of displeasure deepened on the girl's brow. In spite of his
hunger the man was compelled to watch her. She seemed to be looking at a
flock of birds in the sky. Her hand rested lightly at her belt. The birds