"How do I know what a spy would do? Thank God, I can't put myself in the place of such people," she answered disdainfully.
He smiled ruefully. She was unjust, of course. But that did not matter. Roy knew that she was wrought up by what he had told her. Pride and shame and hatred and distrust spoke in her sharp words. Was it not natural that a high-spirited girl should resent such a charge against her people and should flame out against the man who had wounded her? Even though she disapproved of what they had done, she would fly to their defense when attacked.
From the dark gash of the ravine they came at last to the opening where Meldrum lived.
The young woman turned to Beaudry. "Give me your revolver belt."
He hesitated. "What are you going to do?"
Plainly she would have liked to rebuff him, but just now he had the whip hand. Her sullen answer came slowly.
"I'm going to tell my brother that father needs him. When he has gone, I'll see what I can do."
"And what am I to do while you are inside?"
"Whatever you like." She held out her hand for his belt.
Not at all willingly he unbuckled it. "You'll be careful," he urged. "Meldrum is a bad man. Don't try any tricks with him."