He noted covertly the slender lines of her body and the dainty, firm, brown hands flung protectingly about the shoulders of her little friends, who were peering at him owlishly from their shelter.
The bitter revolt that had burned in him at the prospect of a long exile in this undiscovered spot died out suddenly.

What a picture she made! How fresh and flower-like she looked, and yet the wisdom of her! He spoke impulsively: "I am glad you are here, Miss Necia.

I was glad the moment I saw you, and I have been growing gladder ever since, for I never imagined there would be anybody in this place but men and squaws--men who hate the law and squaws who slink about--like that." He nodded in the direction of the Indian woman's disappearance.

"Either that, or, at best, a few 'breeds' like these little fellows." She looked at him quickly.
"Well! What difference would that make ?" "Ugh! Squaws and half-breeds!" His tone conveyed in full his utter contempt.
The tiny hands of the boy and girl slid into her own as she arose.

A curiously startled look lay in her eyes, and an inquiring, plaintive wrinkle came between her brows.
"I don't believe you understand," she said.