She seated herself with satisfaction on a log. She looked at the Boy impudently, as much as to say, "When that blot on the landscape is removed, I'll tell you something." The Boy had not the smallest intention of removing the blot.
Grudgingly he admitted to himself that, away from the unsavory atmosphere of the Gold Nugget, there was nothing in Maudie positively offensive. At this moment, with her shrewd little face peering pertly out from her parki-hood, she looked more than ever like an audacious child, or like some strange, new little Arctic animal with a whimsical human air.
"Look here, Colonel," she said presently, either despairing of getting rid of the Boy or ceasing to care about it: "you got to get a wiggle on to-morrow."
"What for?"
She looked round, first over one shoulder, then over the other. "Well, it's on the quiet."
The Kentuckian nodded. But she winked her blue eyes suspiciously at the Boy.
"Oh, he's all right."
"Well, you been down to Little Minóok, ain't you?"
"Yes."
"And you seen how the pay pinches out above No. 10?"