As the Angel stepped from Jack, she turned her head to one side and peered at him, quite as Freckles had seen the little yellow fellow do on the line a hundred times, and said:  “Well, that does the trick!  Isn’t that fine?  See how it sets him off, boys?  Don’t you forget the tie is to be red, and the first ride soon.  I can’t wait very long.  Now I must go.  The Bird Woman will be ready to start, and she will come here hunting me next, for she is busy today.  What did I come here for anyway?”

She glanced inquiringly around, and several of the men laughed.  Oh, the delight of it!  She had forgotten her errand for him!  Jack had a second increase in height.  The Angel glanced helplessly as if seeking a clue.  Then her eyes fell, as if by accident, on Freckles, and she cried, “Oh, I know now!  It was those magazines the Bird Woman promised you.  I came to tell you that we put them under the box where we hide things, at the entrance to the swamp as we came in.  I knew I would need my hands crossing the swamp, so I hid them there.  You’ll find them at the same old place.”

Then Freckles spoke.

“It’s mighty risky for you to be crossing the swamp alone,” he said.  “I’m surprised that the Bird Woman would be letting you try it.  I know it’s a little farther, but it’s begging you I am to be going back by the trail.  That’s bad enough, but it’s far safer than the swamp.”

The Angel laughed merrily.

“Oh stop your nonsense!” she cried.  “I’m not afraid!  Not in the least!  The Bird Woman didn’t want me to try following a path that I’d been over only once, but I was sure I could do it, and I’m rather proud of the performance.  Now, don’t go babying!  You know I’m not afraid!”

“No,” said Freckles gently, “I know you’re not; but that has nothing to do with the fact that your friends are afraid for you.  On the trail you can see your way a bit ahead, and you’ve all the world a better chance if you meet a snake.”

Then Freckles had an inspiration.  He turned to Jack imploringly.

“You tell her!” he pleaded.  “Tell her to go by the trail.  She will for you.”

The implication of this statement was so gratifying to Black Jack that he seemed again to expand and take on increase before their very eyes.

“You bet!” exclaimed Jack.  And to the Angel:  “You better take Freckles’ word for it, miss.  He knows the old swamp better than any of us, except me, and if he says ‘go by the trail,’ you’d best do it.”

The Angel hesitated.  She wanted to recross the swamp and try to reach the horse.  She knew Freckles would brave any danger to save her crossing the swamp alone, but she really was not afraid, while the trail added over a mile to the walk.  She knew the path.  She intended to run for dear life the instant she felt herself from their sight, and tucked in the folds of her blouse was a fine little 32-caliber revolver that her father had presented her for her share in what he was pleased to call her military exploit.  One last glance at Freckles showed her the agony in his eyes, and immediately she imagined he had some other reason.  She would follow the trail.