"No, Bill's man went down-trail to watch in case of any new trouble."
"See here, father! Out with your secret! What are you-all keeping from me?" asked Polly, anxiously.
"Good gracious, Poll! Can't a man feel riled after such a wearing day and with nothing to eat, without his women-folks asking plaguey questions?" cried Mr. Brewster, testily.
Polly was silenced for the moment, but she went out to the ledge where her mother was helping Mike, and there she began again.
"Mother, I know something unusual concerns you-all, so you may as well confide in me."
"I reckon the men are vexed because we lost all this day hunting up those wretched miners who must have accidentally set the fire going on the other side," was all the reply Polly received.
Mike glanced up to look covertly at Mrs. Brewster and the inquisitive girl caught his expression.
"Even Mike is laughing at the poor way in which you are fencing with me. Now treat me as if I were sensible—not like a baby, or like Bob!" demanded Polly.
"Well, to tell the truth, Polly, I'm afraid to tell you everything. If those girls know they will go clean daffy," sighed Mrs. Brewster, passing her hand over a troubled brow.
"Mother! Did I go daffy when that blizzard carried Choko over the ledge—and what did I do up on Grizzly when the snow and ice covered the trail? Did I lose my nerve?"