"Who is that man? Is he the—the Red Hugh of whom Mr. Audubon spoke?"
The Louisianian turned, and smiled into the girl's wondering grey eyes.
"I doubt if there be two of that name, Kitty! Aye, he's the man, and an odd one. Come—let's sit on the bank over here where we can watch the river. I trust your skiff will return as she promised, for a night in this place would be little to my liking."
"Oh, they're kindly folk enough, but terribly poor," she returned, as Norton led her down the bank under the shade of a clump of cottonwood. "And such wretched, happy, dirty little babies! I wish I could do something for them."
He watched her, fascinated by her fresh beauty, wondering anew how this pearl of womanhood came to be fixed in the squat cabin of Abel Grigg. For a space they sat in silence; she gazed out over the river, hands clasped in her lap, while Norton filled his pipe and smoked, feeling suddenly content with all things.
It was coming out all right, he felt, despite the failure to trail Grigg down and trap the whole gang. Of the relation between Grigg and the girl beside him, he never bothered, being perfectly convinced in his own mind that she was another man's daughter. He remembered the promise he had given her, but the deeper memory of that verbal bill of sale had impressed him with a hatred and contempt for both Grigg and Duval, which nothing would eradicate from his mind.
He recalled the vow he had taken upon that golden eagle, and perhaps the thought leaped to Kathleen's mind, for she turned with a sudden little laugh.
"Oh, I forgot! Have you still got that gold eagle pin?"
"Yes." Norton put his hand to his breast. "Why?"
He could not understand the half-smile that lay in her eyes as she looked at him. Knowing that he was puzzled, she laughed again.