“She has made things ready for me,” thought Donnegan, his heart opening.  “She has kept house for me!”

He pointed out Lou’s tent to his companion and the big man, with a single low word of warning, threw open the flap of the tent and strode in.

There was only the split part of a second between the rising and the fall of the canvas, but in that swift interval, Donnegan saw the girl starting up to receive Landis.  Her calm was broken at last.  Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes were starry with what?  Expectancy?  Love?

It stopped Donnegan like a blow in the face and turned his heart to lead; and then, shamelessly, he glided around the tent and dropped down beside it to eavesdrop.  After all, there was some excuse.  If she loved the man he, Donnegan, would let him live; if she did not love him, he, Donnegan, would kill him like a worthless rat under heel.  That is, if he could.  No wonder that the wanderer listened with heart and soul!

He missed the first greeting.  It was only a jumble of exclamations, but now he heard:  “But, Lou, what a wild idea.  Across the mountains—­with whom?”

“The man who brought you here.”

“Who’s he?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?  He looks like a shifty little rat to me.”

“He’s big enough, Jack.”

Such small praise was enough to set Donnegan’s heart thumping.

“Besides, father told me to go with him, to trust him.”

“Ah!” There was an abrupt chilling and lowering of Landis’ voice.  “The colonel knows him?  He’s one of the colonel’s men?”

Plainly the colonel was to him as the rod to the child.

“Why didn’t you come directly to me?”

“We thought it would be better not to.”

“H’m-m.  Your guide—­well, what was the colonel’s idea in sending you here?  Heavens above, doesn’t he know that a mining camp is no place for a young girl?  And you haven’t a sign of a chaperon, Lou!  What the devil can I do?  What was in his mind?”

“You haven’t written for a long time.”

“Good Lord!  Written!  Letters!  Does he think I have time for letters?” The lie came smoothly enough.  “Working day and night?”

Donnegan smoothed his whiskers and grinned into the night.  Landis might prove better game than he had anticipated.

“He worried,” said the girl, and her voice was as even as ever.  “He worried, and sent me to find out if anything is wrong.”

Then:  “Nonsense!  What is there to worry about?  Lou, I’m half inclined to think that the colonel doesn’t trust me!”

She did not answer.  Was she reading beneath the boisterous assurance of Landis?

“One thing is clear to me—­and to you, too, I hope.  The first thing is to send you back in a hurry.”

Still no answer.

“Lou, do you distrust me?”

At length she managed to speak, but it was with some difficulty:  “There is another reason for sending me.”