She never went to the swamp at night, and on her trips in the daytime, every one knew that she carried a revolver, understood how to use it, and pursued her work in a fearless manner.
Elnora, prowling around the swamp and lured into the interior by the flight of moths and butterflies; Elnora, without father, money, or friends save himself, to defend her--Elnora was a different proposition.
For this to happen just when the Limberlost was bringing the very desire of her heart to the girl, it was too bad.
Sinton was afraid for her, yet he did not want to add the burden of fear to Katharine Comstock's trouble, or to disturb the joy of Elnora in her work.

He stopped at the cabin and slowly went up the walk.

Mrs.Comstock was sitting on the front steps with some sewing.

The work seemed to Sinton as if she might be engaged in putting a tuck in a petticoat.

He thought of how Margaret had shortened Elnora's dress to the accepted length for girls of her age, and made a mental note of Mrs.Comstock's occupation.
She dropped her work on her lap, laid her hands on it and looked into his face with a sneer.
"You didn't let any grass grow under your feet," she said.
Sinton saw her white, drawn face and comprehended.
"I went to pay a debt and see about this opening of the ditch, Kate." "You said you were going to prosecute me." "Good gracious, Kate!" cried Sinton.