Presently the man cautiously turned, scanned his back trail with that slow-stirrng wariness of a woodsman who never moves abruptly or without good reason; then he went back a little way, making no sound on the forest floor.
AND MCKAY SAW THAT HE WORE KNEE MOCCASINS.
At the same time Evelyn Erith drew her little length noiselessly along his, and he felt her mouth warm against his ear:
"Gray?" He nodded.
"I think so, too. His left hand is injured. He wears American moccasins. But in God's name be careful, Kay. It may be a trap."
He nodded almost imperceptibly, keeping his eyes on the figure which now stood within the shade of the trees in an attitude which might suggest listening, or perhaps merely a posture of alert repose.
Evelyn's mouth still rested against his ear and her light breath fell warmly on him. Then presently her lips moved again:
"Kay! He LOOKS safe."
McKay turned his head with infinite caution and she inclined hers to his lips:
"I think it is Gray. But we've got to be certain, Eve." She nodded.