Hale had heard, and so no more along that line of inquiry. He,
too, soon rose to go.

"Why, ain't ye goin' to have something to eat?"

"Oh, no, I've got something in my saddlebags and I must be getting
back to the Gap."

"Well, I reckon you ain't. You're jes' goin' to take a snack right
here." Hale hesitated, but the little girl was looking at him with
such unconscious eagerness in her dark eyes that he sat down
again.

"All right, I will, thank you." At once she ran to the kitchen and
the old man rose and pulled a bottle of white liquid from under
the quilts.

"I reckon I can trust ye," he said. The liquor burned Hale like
fire, and the old man, with a laugh at the face the stranger made,
tossed off a tumblerful.

"Gracious!" said Hale, "can you do that often?"

"Afore breakfast, dinner and supper," said the old man--"but I
don't." Hale felt a plucking at his sleeve. It was the boy with
the dagger at his elbow.

"Less see you laugh that-a-way agin," said Bub with such deadly
seriousness that Hale unconsciously broke into the same peal.