“It doesn’t matter how long I am delayed,” the youth said, and in his voice there was a tone of hopelessness which Virginia noted with sudden sympathy. “I’ll stand here and watch the trail for a time,” he added.
“And I will prepare breakfast,” the western girl said brightly; “then you come when it is ready.”
Half an hour later Virginia called and the lad left his post feeling sure that they were not to be molested. When he had washed at the spring he entered the hut and sat with the girls at the rustic table. Virginia liked the lad and was indeed puzzled to know why he had been in such bad company.
“You girls were brave to come up here alone,” Tom said, “Weren’t you afraid?”
“Indeed I was,” Margaret confided, “because, you see, we had heard that an outlaw is hiding somewhere on Second Peak. Do you suppose that it is true?”
“Yes,” the lad replied, “it is true. I am the outlaw.”
CHAPTER XXIV—A “TAME” OUTLAW.
When the lad called Tom calmly remarked, “I am that outlaw,” Margaret, who had supposed an outlaw to be a villain, such as she had seen in the moving pictures, did not know how to reply, but Virginia, used to the ways of the West, held out her hand to the lad and said with sweet sincerity, “Tom, I believe that you are either innocent, or that you hastily committed some act which you now deeply regret.”
“Thank you for your confidence,” the lad replied.
The eastern girl found it hard to convince herself that she was awake. Could it be that she, brought up in the most conservative manner, was really breakfasting in a log hut on a mountain peak with an outlaw? She glanced furtively at the lad and, noting a kindly expression in his face, she decided that he must be a tame outlaw and one of whom she need not be afraid.