“Where on earth are you going?”
“Ashore.”
She pushed off.
Ratcliffe came down to the cabin.
“She’s gone ashore.”
“She’s gone for that sack,” said Satan unconcernedly. “Reckons to get it off before moon rise, I expect.”
“But it’s too heavy for one.”
“She’ll do it. You’ve put her monkey up makin’ her confess it was her fault. She’s never done that before in all her born life. She’s just natural proud and she’d as soon cut her tongue out as give in she was in the wrong. You’ve made her do more’n I’ve ever made her do, and how you’ve done it—well, search me.
“You aren’t gettin’ on with your supper,” said Satan after a pause.
“Oh, I’ve had enough. I was wondering if she has her boots for going through that bush stuff.”