"Yes--I'm his sister," pointing to the dying man; then, with some
embarrassment: "These clothes? They are the only ones they would
give me. You see a girl would have been a burden; a boy none at
all. Do you think that had I been a man you could so easily have
overpowered me? No!"

The slim, little figure drew itself up straight and defiant before
him. Despite the loose, ugly garments of the Filipinos, Graydon
noticed, for the first time, that the figure was perfectly moulded
and high-bred. She swept off the wide hat she wore, and the man saw
a mass of dark hair done up tightly on her head. But even while
he gazed her mood changed; she became subserviently anxious and
begged him to let her attend to his arm. She pleaded so hard that,
to please her, he yielded. Water was obtained from somewhere; the
slight flesh wound washed; and then, disappearing into the darkness,
to his amazement she returned almost instantly with some bandages
and dressed his arm.

While this surgical operation was going on, Graydon, for the life
of him, could not resist the temptation to ask her again why she
had tried to shoot him. At first, so terribly in earnest did she
take the question and beg for mercy, that he smiled at her; and
then, seeing his amusement, she said, coquettishly:

"How could I possibly have known that you were so nice? Besides,
I had always heard you Americans referred to as brutes."

Graydon laughed, then suddenly his face became very grave. The
realisation of her terrible situation had dawned upon him. A woman