"So I got sympathetic—"
"About the first time on record that you've been sympathetic with another girl, eh?"
"Shut up, Pierre! And I brought her in here—right into your cabin, without thinking what I was doing, and gave her a cup of coffee. Of course it was a pretty greenhorn trick, but I guess no harm will come of it. The girl thinks it's a prospector's cabin—which it was once. She went on her way, happy, because I told her of the right trail to get back with her gang. That's all there is to it. Are you mad at me for letting any one come into this place?"
"Mad?" he smiled. "No, I think that's one of the best lies you ever told me, Jack."
Their eyes met, hers very wide, and his keen and steady. The she gripped at the butt of her gun, an habitual trick when she was very angry, and cried: "Do I have to sit here and let you call me—that? Pierre, pull a few more tricks like that and I'll call for a new deal. Get me?"
She rose, whirled, and threw herself sullenly on her bunk.
"Come back," said Pierre. "You're more scared than angry. Why are you afraid, Jack?"
"It's a lie—I'm not afraid!"
"Let me see that glove again."
"You've seen it once—that's enough."
He whistled carelessly, rolling a cigarette. After he lighted it he said: "Ready to talk yet, partner?"
She maintained an obstinate silence, but that sharp
