dunnage bag on the floor she exclaimed in a low, tense voice:

"Tossi--tossi--han er tossi!"

It was useless. He could not understand, and it was impossible for
him to hide the bewilderment in his face. All at once an
inspiration came to him. Bram's back was toward him, and he
pointed to the sticks of firewood. His pantomime was clear. Should
he knock the wolf-man's brains out as he knelt there?

He could see that his question sent a thrill of alarm through her.
She shook her head. Her lips formed strange words, and looking
again at Bram she repeated, "Tossi--tossi--han er tossi!" She
clasped her hands suddenly to her head then. Her slim fingers
buried themselves in the thick braids of her hair. Her eyes
dilated--and suddenly understanding flashed upon him. She was
telling him what he already knew--that Bram Johnson was mad, and
he repeated after her the "Tossi-tossi," tapping his forehead
suggestively, and nodding at Bram. Yes, that was it. He could see
it in the quick intake of her breath and the sudden expression of
relief that swept over her face. She had been afraid he would
attack the wolf-man. And now she was glad that he understood he
was not to harm him.

If the situation had seemed fairly clear to him a few minutes
before it had become more deeply mysterious than ever now. Even as
the wolf-man rose from his knees, still mumbling to himself in
incoherent exultation, the great and unanswerable question pounded
in Philip's brain: "Who was this girl, and what was she to Bram
Johnson--the crazed outlaw whom she feared and yet whom she did