Jim threw up his hands and laughed.
“Didn't I tell you that curiosity killed a cat?” He pointed to the skin on the wall. “That's what stretched that wild-cat's hide up there! She got too near the old musket!”
“Anyhow, I'm not afraid of her end—what's in it?”
Jim scratched his red head and looked at her thoughtfully.
“You asked me that once before today, didn't you?”
“Yes——”
“Well, it's a little secret of mine. Take my advice—put your hand on it, but not in it.”
Again the sinister look and tone chilled her.
“I don't like secrets between us, Jim,” she said.
She looked at the bag reproachfully, and he watched her keenly—then laughed.