Through an opening in the fringe of buck brush she could plainly see the promontory where she had stood with Jean Isbel, and also the approaches by which he might come.

Rather nervously she realized that her covert was hardly more than a hundred feet from the promontory.

It was imperative that she be absolutely silent.

Her eyes searched the openings along the Rim.

The gray form of a deer crossed one of these, and she concluded it had made the sound she had heard.
Then she lay down more comfortably and waited.