And now she was glad that he understood he was not to harm him.
If the situation had seemed fairly clear to him a few minutes before it had become more deeply mysterious than ever now.

Even as the wolf-man rose from his knees, still mumbling to himself in incoherent exultation, the great and unanswerable question pounded in Philip's brain: "Who was this girl, and what was she to Bram Johnson--the crazed outlaw whom she feared and yet whom she did not wish him to harm ?" And then he saw her staring at the things which Bram had sorted out on the floor.

In her eyes was hunger.

It was a living, palpitant part of her now as she stared at the things which Bram had taken from the dunnage bag--as surely as Bram's madness was a part of him.

As Philip watched her he knew that slowly the curtain was rising on the tragedy of the golden snare.