and how Jed Hawkins and his woman had promised to keep her for three silver fox skins which her father had caught before the sickness came.  That much the woman had confided in her, for she was only six when it happened.  And she had not dared to look at Jolly Roger when she told him of what had passed since then, so she saw little of the hardening in his face as he listened.  But he had blown his nose—­ hard.  It was a way with Jolly Roger, and she had not known him long enough to understand what it meant.  And a little later he had asked her if he might touch her hair—­and his big hand had lain for a moment on her head, as gently as a woman’s.

Like a warm glow in her heart still remained the touch of that hand.  It had given her a new courage, and a new thrill, just as Peter’s vanquishment of unknown monsters that day had done the same for him.  Peter was no longer afraid, and the girl was no longer afraid, and together they went along the slope of the ridge, until they came to a dried-up coulee which was choked with a wild upheaval of rock.  Here Peter suddenly stopped, with his nose to the ground, and then his legs stiffened, and for the first time the girl heard the babyish growl in his throat.  For a moment she stood very still, and listened, and faintly there came to her a sound, as if someone was scraping rock against rock.  The girl drew in a quick breath; she stood straighter, and Peter—­looking up—­saw her eyes flashing, and her lips apart.  And then she bent down, and picked up a jagged stick.

“We’ll go up, Peter,” she whispered.  “It’s one of his hiding-places!”

There was a wonderful thrill in the knowledge that she was no longer afraid, and the same thrill was in Peter’s swiftly beating little heart as he followed her.  They went very quietly, the girl on tip-toe, and Peter making no sound with his soft footpads, so that Jed Hawkins was still on his knees, with his back toward them, when they came out into a square of pebbles and sand between two giant masses of rock.  Yesterday, or the day before, both Peter and Nada would have slunk back, for Jed was at his devil’s work, and only evil could come to the one who discovered him at it.  He had scooped out a pile of sand from under the edge of the biggest rock, and was filling half a dozen grimy leather flasks from a jug which he had pulled from the hole.  And then he paused to drink.  They could hear the liquor gurgling down his throat.

Nada tapped the end of her stick against the rock, and like a shot the man whirled about to face them.  His face turned livid when he saw who it was, and he drew himself up until he stood on his feet, his two big fists clenched, his yellow teeth snarling at her.

“You damned—­spy!” he cried chokingly.  “If you was a man—­I’d kill you!”

The girl did not shrink.  Her face did not whiten.  Two bright spots flamed in her cheeks, and Hawkins saw the triumph shining in her eyes.  And there was a new thing in the odd twist of her red lips, as she said tauntingly.