"'Pears like it was jest brim full of scrap, mister," she went on. "I was acomin' down ther side o' the mounting, paying 'tention to my own business, when I jest made er fool o' myself, like ye see, an' gut a foot fast atween the rocks. Then the critter showed up, and started makin' a row. I tried all I knowed how to break loose, but it was no go. An' I was jest agwine to hit the animal atween the eyes if it jumped me, when you-uns arriv. But I'm glad ye kim. 'Tain't nice to git yuh face all clawed to ribbands by cat's claws. Yep, I'm glad ye helped me outen it."
Thad saw that she was a character, this girl of the Blue Ridge. Rough and uncouth, she might be, still she possessed the qualities that real heroines were once made out of in the days of Joan of Arc.
Doubtless she must be the daughter of one of the poor "white trash" mountaineers who spend their time between making moonshine whiskey, and dodging revenue men. It struck Thad at the moment that perhaps, since they had been enabled to do her a good turn, she might be willing to assist them. Such a girl ought to know a good deal of what was going on back in the mountains. Her people must talk about the strange things that happened; perhaps she might be able to even tell Bob something about the prisoner who was said to be kept up there somewhere, working at the sour-mash in the never raided Still of Phin Dady.
With this bright idea in his mind Thad decided that fortune had indeed played another nice trick upon them, and one that would perhaps be to their advantage.
"Do you live near here; and will you be able to limp home?" he asked; for he saw that the ankle was somewhat swollen, and must pain more or less; although the girl scorned to show it by her manner.
"A right smart ways off from heah, stranger," she replied; "but then they be some o' my friends nigh this, who'll take keer o' me. Ye did hit up that ere onary cat some handsome, an' I shore think it won't want to tackle a pore gal ther next time it sees one."
"Perhaps we might help you along to the home of your friends," said Thad.
She looked at him keenly, for even the daughters of moonshiners grow to be suspicious of those whom they do not know.
"'Tain't no need, stranger; I kin take keer o' myself, I reckon. Not that I ain't feelin' 'bliged to ye, fur offerin'. I kain't furgit thet ye done me a good turn. Mebbe I ain't good lookin' like thet leetle cousin o' yours, Bob Quail; but it's the on'y face I'll ever hev; and no gal likes to be scratched an' gouged bad by the pizen claws o' a wildcat."
"Will you tell your father about this, Polly?" asked Bob, excitedly, Thad thought.