No wonder rumor had coupled his name with that of Arlie as her future
husband. He knew how to make light love by implication, to skate
around the subject skilfully and boldly with innuendo and suggestion.

Arlie knew him for what he was-- a man passionate and revengeful, the
leader of that side of the valley's life which she deplored. She did
not trust him. Nevertheless, she felt his fascination. He made that
appeal to her which a graceless young villain often does to a good
woman who lets herself become interested in trying to understand the
sinner and his sins. There was another reason why just now she showed
him special favor. She wanted to blunt the edge of his anger against
the Texan ranger, though her reason for this she did not admit even to
herself.

She had-- oh, she was quite sure of this-- no longer any interest in
Fraser except the impersonal desire to save his life. Having thought
it all over, she was convinced that her friends had nothing to fear
from him as a spy. That was what he had tried to tell her when she
would not listen.

Deep in her heart she knew why she had not listened. It had to do with
that picture of a pretty girl smiling up happily into his eyes-- a
thing she had not forgotten for one waking moment since. Like a knife
the certainty had stabbed her heart that they were lovers. Her
experience had been limited. Kodaks had not yet reached Lost Valley as
common possessions. In the mountains no girl had her photograph taken
beside a man unless they had a special interest in each other. And the
manner of these two had implied the possession of a secret not known
to the world.