The nester looked up slowly and laboriously gained his feet. He slouched toward the girl.
"I don't know nothin' about it," he said in his whining voice.
Bobby Cole took a quick step forward as he spoke, but Hepburn put out a detaining hand and muttered a word. She stopped. Her face was colorless; eyes hard and bright; she breathed quickly and seemed almost on the verge of tears.
"Who built this pen?" Jane asked.
"I don't know."
"Did you ever see it before?"
"No, I—well, I did see it, but I don't know nothin' about it."
"You've been here all the Spring and didn't know anything about it?"
Her tone was sharp, decisive and the color had mounted in her face. She leaned slightly forward from the hips.
"No, I don't know nothin' about it," he protested, lifting his characterless eyes to hers.