But he had blown his nose--hard.
It was a way with Jolly Roger, and she had not known him long enough to understand what it meant.

And a little later he had asked her if he might touch her hair--and his big hand had lain for a moment on her head, as gently as a woman's.
Like a warm glow in her heart still remained the touch of that hand.
It had given her a new courage, and a new thrill, just as Peter's vanquishment of unknown monsters that day had done the same for him.
Peter was no longer afraid, and the girl was no longer afraid, and together they went along the slope of the ridge, until they came to a dried-up coulee which was choked with a wild upheaval of rock.

Here Peter suddenly stopped, with his nose to the ground, and then his legs stiffened, and for the first time the girl heard the babyish growl in his throat.

For a moment she stood very still, and listened, and faintly there came to her a sound, as if someone was scraping rock against rock.

The girl drew in a quick breath; she stood straighter, and Peter--looking up--saw her eyes flashing, and her lips apart.