Though she could not remember ever having seen him at Johnnie Blake's; and though the curved knife was in pattern the true type of a kidnaper's weapon, and the look out of those round, dark eyes, as he strode toward her, was not at all friendly, she did not scamper away. She waited, her heart beating hard. When he halted, she curtsied.
"I've—I've always wondered about soda-water," she faltered, trying to smile. "But when I asked—"
"Um!" he grunted; then, with a sidewise jerk of the head, "Take a drink."
She lifted eager eyes. "All I want to?" she half-whispered.
He nodded. "Sip! Lap! Tipple!"
"Oo!" Fairly beaming with delight, she knelt down. For the first time in her life she could have all the soda-water she wanted!
First, she put the tip of one finger into the rushing sparkle, slowly, to lengthen out her joy. Next, with a little laugh, she sank her whole hand. Bubbles formed upon it,—all sizes of them—standing out like dewdrops upon leaves. The bubbles cooled. And tempted her thirst. With a deep breath, she bent forward until her red mouth touched the shimmering surface. Thus, lying prone, with arms spread wide, she drank deep of the flow.
When she straightened and sat back upon her heels, she made an astonishing discovery: The trees that studded the slope were not covered with leaves, like ordinary trees! Each branched to hold lights—myriads of lights! Some of these shone steadily; others burned with a hissing sound; others were silent enough, but rose and fell, jumped and flickered. It was these countless lights that illumed the forest like a pink sun.
She rose. There was wonder in the gray eyes. "Are these Christmas trees?" she said. "Where am I?"
"You've had your soda-water," he answered shortly. "You ought to know."