There was a wildness in her look which, despite himself, made Peterson restless and ill at ease, although he took occasion to show by his words and manner that he had no such thoughts. The girl stared at him a moment, and then asked:
"You do not want to kill me, then, do you?"
"No; I wouldn't do no such thing, and I would raise the ha'r of the man that tried it, if he was my own brother."
"He tried to; he shot at me, and chased me with his knife."
"Who did so?"
"That bad man; he is hunting now for me, and wants to kill me."
"Who do you mean? McGable?"
"Yes, it was he—he nearly killed me."
"He may kill you yet. Won't you go with me where he can't hurt you?"
"Oh, no—no—I live alone, and God will take care of me."