Her quick ear caught the sound of Pearl’s approach and suddenly her blue, twinkling gaze dropped from the hills to the trail which led to her door.  Seeing who her visitor was, a smile of blended curiosity and welcome crossed her face.  “Howdy, Pearl,” she called jovially, “come and set a spell.”  She removed the pick and fishing rod and dragged the dog out of the way.  Through the open doorway Mrs. Thomas and Jose might be seen in the room beyond, bending over a table, evidently deeply engrossed in the composition of some cakes.

“I can only stay a minute; I got a notion to walk this morning.”  There was a cool deviltry in the slanting gaze with which she surveyed the other woman.

“Seagreave, I’ll bet,” returned Mrs. Nitschkan frankly.  “It ain’t in either you or Marthy Thomas to let a man alone.  What possesses you, anyway?”

Pearl continued to regard her with that subtle, burning, mocking look.  “Your kind can never know,” she taunted.

“Mebbe,” said Mrs. Nitschkan laconically, “but you’re different from Marthy.  She’s just mush.  She’ll be thinkin’ now that she’s cracked about Jose.  If it wasn’t him it would be your father, and if there wasn’t no man up here at all, she’d hoist that crepe veil on her head, stick a red or blue bow at her neck and go swingin’ down to camp, tryin’ to persuade herself an’ me that all she went for was a package of tea or some bacon.  But you’re different, always a yellin’ about bein’ free and yet always a tryin’ to get tangled up.”

Again Pearl laughed wickedly.  “You tramp woman!  Why would you rather hunt bear or mountain lions than shoot squirrels?  Because there’s danger in it.”  She laughed mirthlessly.  “I guess it’s for the same reason that I got to hunt the biggest game there is—­man, and he hunts me.”

Mrs. Nitschkan relighted her pipe.  “Bob Flick’s your best bet,” she remarked impersonally.

“Talk about guns and fishing rods and dogs, something you know about,” said Pearl scornfully, touching the dozing dog lightly with her foot.  He growled angrily, resenting the liberty.

“You better leave Flip alone,” cautioned Mrs. Nitschkan; “he’s liable to bite anybody but me.  Always be kind to dumb animals, ’specially cross dogs.  And, say, Pearl, I been running the cards this morning.  It was such a dandy day that I didn’t know whether I’d do some assessment work or spend the day fishin’; the cards decided in favor of fishin’.  I had to get some light so’s I could tell how to go ahead.  How any one can get along without a pack of cards!  It’s sure a lamp to the feet.  If you wait a minute I’ll run ’em for you.”

She vanished inside and returned immediately with a board and a well-worn pack of cards.  These she shuffled and, after Pearl had cut them several times, she began to lay them out in neat rows on the board on her knee, uttering a strange, crooning sound the while and studying each card as it fell with the most absorbed interest.