They looked at each other for a pregnant moment, while a silence fell on the cabin and they 150 could hear the singing water running down the slopes.
Then the girl stooped and rearranged the cushion in the big chair, laid a book more neatly on top of another at the table’s edge.
“Th’ time is up,” she said, “I must be goin’.”
She straightened her shoulders and looked at him again.
“I thank you for th’ meal,” she said, “an’ some day I’ll return it––in some manner. I don’t know yet just what you’re here for, nor if you’re Courtrey’s man or not––––––”
“Good Lord!” ejaculated Kenset, but she went on.
“I won’t shake hands with you, for whilst I ain’t done no killin’ yet, I’m sworn––an’ Jim Last’s hands was red––they would be to such as you––an’ down to th’ last drop o’ blood, th’ last beat o’ my heart, I’m Jim Last’s girl––th’ best gun man in Lost Valley, if I do say so.”
And she swung quickly to the door.
Kenset followed her. He longed for words, but found none.
There was a sudden tragic seeming in the very air, a change from the pleasant commonplace to the tense and unexpected. It was always so in these strange meetings with the people of Lost Valley, it seemed, as if he was never to find his 151 way among them, the sane and quiet course that he must travel.