Carmena's face whitened.
"If it hadn't been for Dad, there's no telling what Cochise would have done with her. Anyhow, he's my father."
To this Lennon could make no answer. He turned again to stare at the big still. Fuel had been placed in the firebox, ready for lighting. Carmena knelt down before it and dipped her hand into the Indian basket. One after the other, she laid out the six sticks of dynamite and the caps and fuses that she had saved from Lennon's prospecting outfit.
She looked up at him, gravely expectant.
"You said you'd help us, Jack. I want this whole thing fixed so it will never make another drop of poison."
"At once?"
"No. They'd be sure we did it, and I figure—— Can you fix it so it will go off a quarter minute after the fire is lighted?"
"Oh-h, Mena!" cried Elsie. "What you going to do? You know Dad always lights the fire."
"Never fear, Blossom. I'll take good care of Dad. If Jack does what I want, there'll be no more of the nasty tizwin to make Dad cross and sick."
Lennon found himself regarding the girl with rekindled admiration for her ingenuity and daring.