quivered and faded with the spent breath of the gale as it penetrated
their retreat. "The pit," whispered Flip; "it's safe on the other side,"
she added, cautiously skirting the orbit of the great eye, and leading
him to a sheltered nest of bark and sawdust. It was warm and odorous.
Nevertheless, they both deemed it necessary to enwrap themselves in the
single blanket. The eye beamed fitfully upon them, occasionally a wave
of lambent tremulousness passed across it; its weirdness was an excuse
for their drawing nearer each other in playful terror.

"Flip."

"Well?"

"What did the other two want? To see you, TOO?"

"Likely," said Flip, without the least trace of coquetry. "There's been
a lot of strangers yer, off and on."

"Perhaps you'd like to go back and see them?"

"Do you want me to?"

Lance's reply was a kiss. Nevertheless he was vaguely uneasy. "Looks a
little as if I were running away, don't it?" he suggested.

"No," said Flip; "they think you're only a squaw; it's me they're
after." Lance smarted a little at this infelicitous speech. A strange
and irritating sensation had been creeping over him--it was his first
experience of shame and remorse. "I reckon I'll go back and see," he
said, rising abruptly.