Louie.

It was Louie, this, and Louie, that, right and left, all
the time.




XI


"Look here, Tenderfoot, I want to tell you some-
thing," Camilla called to Luis Cervantes, as he made his
way to the hut to fetch some boiling water for his foot.

For days the girl had been restless. Her coy ways and
her reticence had finally annoyed the man; stopping sud-
denly, he stood up and eyeing her squarely:

"All right. What do you want to tell me?"

Camilla's tongue clove to her mouth, heavy and damp
as a rag; she could not utter a word. A blush suffused
her cheeks, turning them red as apples; she shrugged
her shoulders and bowed her head, pressing her chin
against her naked breast. Then without moving, with the
fixity of an idiot, she glanced at the wound, and said in
a whisper:

"Look, how nicely it's healing now: it's like a red