“Supper ready,” he called; and then as the rest seated themselves at the table, he advanced, carrying the pail of steaming potatoes on the hooked stick and the frying-pan in his other hand.
The meal had scarce begun when a crackling in the undergrowth back of the tent was heard, and on the instant there emerged a girl. Her clothing was in shreds, her face and hands were black with mud, streaks of blood showed across cheek and chin, and her eyes were fierce and sunken.
“For God’s sake give me suthin’ to eat,” she said, looking from one to another of the astonished group. “I’m damn near starved–only a bite,” she added, sinking to her knees and extending her hands. “I hain’t eat nothin’ but roots ’n’ berries for three days.”
Angie was the first to recover. “Here,” she said, hastily extending her plate, “take this.”
Without a word the starved creature grasped it and began eating as only a desperate, hungry animal would, while the group watched her.
“Don’t hurry so,” exclaimed Martin, whose wits had now returned. “Here, take this cup of coffee.”
Soon the food vanished and then the girl arose. “Sit down again, my poor child,” entreated Angie, who had observed the strange scene with moist eyes, “and tell us who you are and where you came from.”
“My name’s Chip,” answered the girl, bluntly, “an’ I’m runnin’ away from Tim’s Place, ’cause dad sold me to Pete Bolduc.”
“Sold–you–to–Pete–Bolduc,” exclaimed Angie, looking at her wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”
“He did, sartin,” answered the girl, laconically. “I heerd ’em makin’ the bargain, ’n’ I fetched three hundred dollars.”