For some moments her senses were gone, and she opened her eyes only when Lon, vaguely alarmed, threw water in her face.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Cronk entered the scow sullenly and sat down. Lem was sitting at the table, bending over a tin basin in which he was washing his bitten fingers. The steel hook and its leather strappings lay on the table.
"I telled Flea," said the squatter after a silence.
"Did ye tell her she was comin' to my boat tonight?" asked Lem eagerly.
"Nope; but I telled her that she weren't my gal."
"Ye cussed fool!" cried Crabbe, jumping to his feet. "Ye won't keep her now, I bet that!"
Cronk smiled covertly.