"Darn it," said Charlie, "Lydia's left the tent flap up. We might as well go to bed."
Which, after another song or two, they did.
CHAPTER XI
LYDIA GIGGLES
"Nature is neither cruel nor sad. She is only purposeful, tending to an end we cannot see."—The Murmuring Pine.
The days flew lightly by, lightly for Lydia, too, in spite of the heavy secret she carried of Levine's plotting. Lightly, in spite of the fact that Lydia was undergoing some soul-changing experiences in this short holiday, experiences that were to direct her life's course.
The day before they broke camp, Lydia's old squaw appeared and asked for Charlie Jackson.
Charlie and Kent were cooking dinner.
"Dear me," said Miss Towne, "tell him to take the poor thing away,
Lydia."
"He must feed her, first," exclaimed Lydia, leading the old Indian over to the cooking shelter.