"I did."

"For only that?"

"Only that."

Flip dropped her eyes. Lance had got his other arm around her waist, but
her resisting little hand was still potent.

"Listen," she said at last without looking up, but apparently talking to
the intruding arm, "when Dad comes I'll get him to send you to watch the
diamond pit. It isn't far; it's warm, and"--

"What?"

"I'll come, after a bit, and see you. Quit foolin' now. If you'd only
have come here like yourself--like--like--a white man."

"The old man," interrupted Lance, "would have just passed me on to the
summit. I couldn't have played the lost fisherman on him at this time of
year."

"Ye could have been stopped at the Crossing by high water, you silly,"
said the girl. "It was." This grammatical obscurity referred to the
stage coach.

"Yes, but I might have been tracked to this cabin. And look here, Flip,"
he said, suddenly straightening himself, and lifting the girl's face to
a level with his own, "I don't want you to lie any more for me. It ain't
right."