She shook her head. "I—I don't think I'll come any more. I don't think it's right."
"Just as you say," said Sam. "If you feel all right to-morrow afternoon, you might get a horse and ride around the bay."
"I—I'm afraid to ride alone," she faltered.
"Well," said Sam, ever quick to take offence, "if you don't want to see me again, of course——"
"I do! I do!" she cried. "I've got to have a talk with you. I don't know what to do!"
"Very well," he said stoutly. "I'll come up to the house to-morrow night. I guess there's no reason why I shouldn't."
"Yes, that is best," she agreed. "Drive on now."
Sam clucked to his team, and they started briskly down the trail. "Lord, she looks about seventy!" he was thinking. Miss Mackall stood watching until they rounded the first bend. When she turned around, there stood Bela beside a big tree, a few feet to the side of the road. Evidently she had been hidden in the underbrush behind. Miss Mackall gasped in piteous terror and stood rooted to the spot.
Bela's face was as relentless as a high priestess's. "I listen if you goin' tell him 'bout me," she said. "If you tell him, I ready to shoot."
The other woman was speechless.