“What,” cried Edwards eagerly, “what if the officers should return?”
Still without looking at his companion Natachee answered:
“There are places in the Cañada del Oro where a man, if he knew these mountains as I know them, could hide from all the sheriffs in Arizona.”
Haltingly, but with trembling eagerness, Hugh Edwards asked the inevitable question.
“And would you, Natachee, help such a man under such circumstances?”
“I might.”
At this noncommittal answer Hugh Edwards moved uneasily.
“Do you know,” he said at last, “I have fancied sometimes that you, being an Indian, hated all white people bitterly.”
Natachee made no reply.
Edwards continued, as one feeling his way over dangerous ground: