room in any case. The others rolled the great stone from the trap
and shoved the smaller stones aside, and then they all filed down
the stone stairs, leaving us alone--although by the trembling blankets
it was easy to tell that the women had not gone far. The last man
who went below handed the spluttering torch to Miss Vanderman, as
if she might need it to defend herself, and she stood there shaking
it to try and make it smoke less until the planks were back in place.
She was totally unconscious of it, but with the torch-light gleaming
on her hair and reflected in her blue eyes she looked like the spirit
of old romance come forth to start a holy war.

"Now please explain!" she begged, when I had pushed the last stone
in place. "First, what kind of Americans can you possibly be? Do
you all use such extraordinary accents, and such expressions?"

"Don't I talk American to beat the band?" objected Fred. "Sit down
on this rock a while, and I'll convince you."

She sat on the rock, and we gathered round her. She was not more
than twenty-two or three, but as perfectly assured and fearless as
only a well-bred woman can be in the presence of unshaven men she
does not know. Fred would have continued the tomfoolery, but Will
oared in.

"I'm Will Yerkes, Miss Vanderman."

"Oh!"

"I know Nurse Vanderman at the mission."