"You will want a wash before you eat," she said, ushering us in, and George nodded, and, "See you later," said he.
Margaret attended to our wants herself when we sat down to table in the fresh dining-room. But there was little said until the meal was over, and she sat down beside us. Apache Kid seemed to be thinking hard.
"Well, Miss Pinkerton," he said at last, making bread pills on the table and smoothing a few crumbs about in little mountain ridges and then levelling them again. "You remember what we told you about Mr. Pinkerton's last wishes for you?"
"Yes," she said, "I was telling George what pop had said."
Apache's eyebrows frowned a trifle, and then settled again.
"Yes?" he said, as though requesting an explanation of what she meant by this; but she remained silent.
"O, I thought perhaps the gentleman had made some suggestion, when you mentioned his name just now," said Apache Kid.
But she did not yet reply, and he went on again:
"Well, Miss Pinkerton, I may tell you that we failed to find any such bonanza at the Lost Cabin as we had hoped for."
Margaret Pinkerton stiffened, and I glanced up to see her looking on Apache's face with pin-points of eyes and a look on her face as though she said: "So—you are a contemptible fellow, after all."