Silently he followed her, and they sought the kitchen, which room was farthest of all from Mrs. Ehrhart’s quarters. She seated him in one of the straight-backed, thong-bottom chairs, and for perhaps half an hour they talked of inconsequential things, the girl watching the play of his features all the time.
Then, when he least expected it, she rose suddenly, confronted him, and silently handed him the “ev’dence.”
He looked at it bewilderedly, turning it over and over, then smiled up at her and shook his head.
“Open it!” she commanded.
He obeyed her, saw the writing, and held it toward the miserable light of the kitchen coal-oil lamp. He read aloud, then laughed.
“Daisy’s, of course,” he said. “And what shall I say next? I seem to be sort of on the carpet, am I not?”
“It was found up in the mountains some place,” she told him, straight-lipped and watchful.
He lifted his brown eyebrows.
“Near a temporary camp, perhaps,” she added.
“Really, Manzanita——”