"Looks like she must have dropped that fierce frog sticker when she fell, because you notice she hasn't got the old knife in her claws just now."
"That's right," admitted Mark, cheerfully, for the fact naturally pleased him.
"And here it is, right at my feet," said Elmer, as he stooped and took something from the ground.
It was the knife which the Italian woman had flourished so recklessly.
"My stars, what a savage-looking thing!" ejaculated Lil Artha, as he stared at the knife.
"Well, it does look wicked for a fact," remarked Elmer; "but after all, I reckon she's never done anything with it but cut dandelion greens, or else prepared fish," and he took occasion to bring the blade close to his nose while speaking, only to make a face, as though the fishy odor that clung to the steel might be far from pleasant.
"Well, we've overhauled the lady; now whatever are we going to do with her?" demanded the tall scout.
"I wonder if she understands English?" remarked Elmer.
"Try her and see," Mark suggested.
The woman had been watching them keenly all this while. Her manner suggested that she might be trying to read her fate more from their actions than any words which they would let fall.