“Who goes thar?” he demanded, warningly.
Adam halted inside the circle of light. “Say, I lost my coat. Must have fallen off my pack. Did you fellows find it?”
“No, we didn’t find no coat,” replied the man, slowly. He straightened up, with his hand dropping to his side. The other fellow was on his knees mixing dough in a pan.
Adam advanced with natural manner, but his eyes, hidden under the shadow of his wide hat brim, took swift stock of that camp.
“Pshaw! I was sure hoping you’d found it,” he said, as he reached the fire. “I had a time locating your camp. Funny you’d come way off the trail, down in here.”
“Funny or not, stranger, it’s our bizness,” gruffly replied the man standing. He peered keenly at Adam.
“Sure,” replied Adam, with slow and apparent good nature. He was close to the man now, as close as he ever needed to get to any man who might make a threatening move. And he looked past him at the girl. She had a pale little face, too small for a pair of wonderful dark eyes that seemed full of woe and terror. She held out thin brown hands to Adam.
“Reckon you’d better go an’ hunt fer yer coat,” returned the man, significantly.
In one stride Adam loomed over him, his leisurely, casual manner suddenly transformed to an attitude of menace. He stood fully a foot and a half over this stockily built man, who also suddenly underwent a change. He stiffened. Warily he peered up, just a second behind Adam in decision. His mind worked too slowly to get the advantage in this situation.
“Say, I’m curious about this girl you’ve got with you,” said Adam, deliberately.