"An innocent, simple little billet-doux that would make them squirm. Why, that's my business!"
"Better not," said Natalie anxiously.
"You're right," he said with a sigh. "It's the first thing you learn: never to write when you feel that way. But it's mighty hard to resist it!"
Rina understood little of all this. "You send answer back?" she asked.
"No. Tell him there's no answer," said Garth. "Tell him we nearly died laughing," he added.
That night Garth determined not to leave the cabin until shortly before dawn. He had seen Xavier leave the other camp before dark; and he guessed the breed youth had been told off to watch them. From what he had observed of the incontinuity of the breed mind in any given direction, he strongly suspected if they kept still throughout the first part of the night Xavier would fall asleep before morning. He had a little plan in his mind, which he did not confide to Natalie. About three o'clock, therefore, he called Natalie to bar the door after him; and he sallied forth, concealing from her that he carried a coil of light rope.
He was gone more than an hour, of which every minute was an age to poor Natalie crouching over the fire and straining her ears. She had successively pictured every possible accident that might have befallen him, before her heart leaped at the sound of his signal at the door.
Garth was for sending her back to bed forthwith, but Natalie apprehended he had not been gone so long for nothing; and presently she heard him stand two guns in the corner.
"What have you got?" she asked eagerly.