She turned away from him and stubbornly sent out another stone, hanging in the air after its flight. Her fury amused Fred, who took all games lightly and played them well. She was breathing hard, and little beads of moisture had gathered on her upper lip. He slipped his arm about her. “If you will look as pretty as that—” he bent his head and kissed her. Thea was startled, gave him an angry push, drove at him with her free hand in a manner quite hostile. Fred was on his mettle in an instant. He pinned both her arms down and kissed her resolutely.
When he released her, she turned away and spoke over her shoulder. “That was mean of you, but I suppose I deserved what I got.”
“I should say you did deserve it,” Fred panted, “turning savage on me like that! I should say you did deserve it!”
He saw her shoulders harden. “Well, I just said I deserved it, didn’t I? What more do you want?”
“I want you to tell me why you flew at me like that! You weren’t playing; you looked as if you’d like to murder me.”
She brushed back her hair impatiently. “I didn’t mean anything, really. You interrupted me when I was watching the stone. I can’t jump from one thing to another. I pushed you without thinking.”
Fred thought her back expressed contrition. He went up to her, stood behind her with his chin above her shoulder, and said something in her ear. Thea laughed and turned toward him. They left the stone-pile carelessly, as if they had never been interested in it, rounded the yellow tower, and disappeared into the second turn of the canyon, where the dead city, interrupted by the jutting promontory, began again.
Old Biltmer had been somewhat embarrassed by the turn the game had taken. He had not heard their conversation, but the pantomime against the rocks was clear enough. When the two young people disappeared, their host retreated rapidly toward the head of the canyon.
“I guess that young lady can take care of herself,” he chuckled. “Young Fred, though, he has quite a way with them.”