Wilder nodded. His smiling eyes had come back again to the girl’s face as she sat with her paddle stirring in the water to keep her place against the stream.
“Did Ben Needham send you along?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” the Kid denied frankly. “I just saw you pass up stream and guessed you were strangers. So—” She broke off. In a moment she realised her mistake from the flash of inquiry she saw in the man’s eyes.
“I don’t remember passing you on the river,” he said quickly.
The girl’s moment of confusion passed, and frank impulse again took hold of her. She laughed happily, and the man felt the infection of it.
“I saw you coming an’ took cover,” she said simply. “I guessed you were Cheechakos and reckoned I’d take a look—at a distance.”
“Why did you take—cover? There wasn’t need?”
“No.” The Kid shook her head a little dubiously. “There wasn’t real need. Only—”
“Yes?”
“Well, anyway I’ll be glad to pass you through the rapids if it’ll help you. It’ll save you more than a day.”