She would have loved it if only the man opposite were Lone, or Swan, or some one else whom she knew and trusted.
She watched the firelight dancing on Al's somber face, softening its hardness, making it almost wistful when he gazed thoughtfully into the coals.

She thrilled when she saw how watchful he was, how he lifted his head and listened to every little night sound.

She was afraid of him as she feared the lightning; she feared his pitiless attitude toward human life.

She would find some way to outwit him when it came to the point of marrying him, she thought.

She would escape him if she could without too great a risk of being shot.