“Where are you stopping?”
“I am not stopping. I am on a walking tour, or was until I hurt my leg.”
“Don’t you think you’d better wait until things dry up?”
“And starve?” he asked.
“The woods are full of nuts and berries,” said Tish.
“Not in May.”
“And there is plenty of game.”
“Yes, if one has a weapon,” he replied. “I lost my gun when I fell into Thunder Creek; in fact, I lost everything except my good name. What’s that thing of Shakespeare’s: ‘Who steals my purse steals trash, ... but he——’”
Aggie found the matches just then and gave him a box. He was almost pathetically grateful. Tish was still staring at him. To find on Thunder Cloud Mountain a young man who quoted Shakespeare and had lost everything but his good name—even Stevenson could hardly have had a more unusual adventure.
“What are you going to do with the matches?” she demanded as he limped to the cave mouth.