Two pack mules lunged down the trail, followed by a squat figure on an
Indian pony.
"This is Na-che, Mr. Huntingdon," said Diana.
Enoch shook hands with the Indian woman, whose face was as dark as Jonas' in the moonlight. "Where's your camp, Mr. Huntingdon?" Diana went on.
"Just a moment!" Enoch had recovered his composure. "I am with two miners, Mackay and Field. To them, I am a lawyer named Smith. I would like very much to remain unknown to them during the remaining two weeks of my vacation."
Jonas heaved a great sigh that sounded curiously like an expression of vast and many sided relief. Then he chuckled. "Easy enough for me. You can't never be nothing but Boss to me."
But Diana was troubled. "I thought we'd camp with your outfit to-night. But we'd better not. I'd be sure to make a break. Are you positive that these men don't know you?"
"Positive!" exclaimed Enoch. "Why, just look at me, Miss Allen!"
Diana glanced at boots, overalls and flannel shirt, coming to pause at the fine lion-like head. "Of course, your disguise is very impressive," she laughed. "But I would say that it was impressive in that it accents your own peculiarities."
"That outfit is something fierce, boss. I brung you some riding breeches," exclaimed Jonas.
"I don't want 'em," said Enoch. "Miss Allen, Field calls me Judge.
How would that do?"