The four flickering, scattered lights presently dropped
into line. The trail had been found; they were
coming nearer. Flip breathed quickly; the spiced
aroma of her presence filled the blanket as he drew
her tightly beside him. He had forgotten the
storm that raged around them, the mysterious foe that
was approaching, until Flip caught his sleeve with
a slight laugh. “Why, it’s Kennedy
and Bijah!”
“Who’s Kennedy and Bijah?” asked
Lance, curtly.
“Kennedy’s the Postmaster and Bijah’s
the Butcher.”
“What do they want?” continued Lance.
“Me,” said Flip, coyly.
“You?”
“Yes; let’s run away.”
Half leading, half dragging her friend, Flip made
her way with unerring woodcraft down the ravine.
The sound of voices and even the tumult of the storm
became fainter, an acrid smell of burning green wood
smarted Lance’s lips and eyes; in the midst
of the darkness beneath him gradually a faint, gigantic
nimbus like a lurid eye glowed and sank, quivered
and faded with the spent breath of the gale as it penetrated
their retreat. “The pit,” whispered
Flip; “it’s safe on the other side,”
she added, cautiously skirting the orbit of the great
eye, and leading him to a sheltered nest of bark and
sawdust. It was warm and odorous. Nevertheless,
they both deemed it necessary to enwrap themselves
in the single blanket. The eye beamed fitfully
upon them, occasionally a wave of lambent tremulousness
passed across it; its weirdness was an excuse for
their drawing nearer each other in playful terror.
“Flip.”
“Well?”
“What did the other two want? To see you,
too?”
“Likely,” said Flip, without the least
trace of coquetry. “There’s been
a lot of strangers yer, off and on.”
“Perhaps you’d like to go back and see
them?”
“Do you want me to?”
Lance’s reply was a kiss. Nevertheless
he was vaguely uneasy. “Looks a little
as if I were running away, don’t it?” he
suggested.
“No,” said Flip; “they think you’re
only a squaw; it’s me they’re after.”
Lance smarted a little at this infelicitous speech.
A strange and irritating sensation had been creeping
over him—it was his first experience of
shame and remorse. “I reckon I’ll
go back and see,” he said, rising abruptly.
Flip was silent. She was thinking. Believing
that the men were seeking her only, she knew that
their intention would be directed from her companion
when it was found out he was no longer with her, and
she dreaded to meet them in his irritable presence.
“Go,” she said; “tell Dad something’s
wrong in the diamond pit, and say I’m watching
it for him here.”
“And you?”
“I’ll go there and wait for him.
If he can’t get rid of them, and they follow
him there, I’ll come back here and meet you.
Anyhow, I’ll manage to have Dad wait there a
spell.”
