She started, and looked at him closely.
"Sure o' it?" she repeated. "No, fer he may be dead."
"You do not know that he is dead—you have not heard of his death?"
"No."
"Is he bold and daring?"
Her eyes flashed, and a look of pride swept across her face.
"Folks allus 'lowed Rufe Kenyon wa'n't afeard o' ary two-legged critter livin', an' they war right."
"Perhaps he has escaped."
She clutched his arm, beginning to pant, as she asked:
"What makes you say that? I knowed he'd try it some day, but—but, have you heard anything? Do you know that he has tried it?"