"Ye-es," said Mark, very slowly. "Ye-es, it was."
He was staring at the girl, a look as of an inspiration on his face.
"They stood that gun up on end and fired it off late one night," he repeated, scarcely heeding what he was saying, so rapt was he in his thought.
"Yes," said Grace, gazing at him curiously, and meeting his eyes. "Yes. Why?"
Mark studied her look for a moment; he saw mischief and fun dancing in it, and, in a moment more, he had made up his mind.
"Tell me, Miss Fuller," he said, speaking very low. "Would you—would you like to have 'George' buy some more powder?"
"More powder!" she echoed. "What do you——"
And then she caught the gleam in her escort's eye.
"Are you—do you mean you want to do it?" she cried.
"Yes," said Mark, simply. "Will you help?"