Menard shrugged his shoulders, and made no reply. Time was all he wished.
“If the Big Throat started with the first light, he should be here before another hour,” he said to the maid, who was watching the Indians.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Is there any corn in the basket, Mademoiselle?”
“I think so. I had forgotten.”
“We shall need it. Wait; I will look.”
He got the basket, and brought it to her. 223
“There is no time for cooking, but you had better eat what you can. And keep a close watch.”
“Here, M’sieu.” She spread her skirt, and he poured out half of the corn.
“You give me too much. You must not.”