She turned to depart, and Peterson, who all the time had felt fidgety and nervous, was glad to be alone, when it suddenly occurred to him there were several questions which he must yet ask, to gain the desired information for Abbot and Mansfield. So he called her back.
"Say, will you let me ax you a thing or two?"
She answered by turning around and silently facing him.
"You know McGable in course, and must know he's the all-firedest varmint that tramps. Wal, last spring he and a lot of Shawnees attacked a flat-boat, and sliced 'em all up 'cepting the best-looking one of the lot—him as is squatted afore you. Wal, that ain't much to do with the matter, 'cept to illusrate the point. There was a gal on board—that I tried to jump overboard with, but she got shot just as I was ready, and I left her behind. She wan't dead then, but about so. Howsumever, her folks never'll be satisfied till they know all about it. Might be you've heard of the gal?"
"No," replied the Frontier Angel, shaking her head with a pensive, saddened look.
"S'pect you did. Sorry, 'cause I'd like to find out. Never heard McGable say nothin' 'bout her?"
"No."
"Qu'ar. Oh! is that renegade your husband?"
The maiden simply gave him a wondering stare without making a further reply. Now that Peterson was fairly started, he determined to learn all he could of her.
"The name of the gal was Marian Abbot," observed the ranger, suddenly recollecting that he had not mentioned her name. As he uttered it, his heart fairly stopped beating, at the manner of the mysterious being before him. She started, her dark eyes opening so strangely, and her breath coming so short and gaspingly, that Peterson averred he felt his hair lift his coon-skin cap clean from his head.