In his singular truthfulness he would have frankly confessed it to Teresa, but the secret was not his own.

He contented himself with saying that he had disposed of it at Indian Spring.
Teresa started, and communicated unconsciously some of her nervousness to her companion.

They gazed in each other's eyes with a troubled expression.
"Do you think it was wise to sell that particular skin, which might be identified ?" she asked timidly.
Low knitted his arched brows, but felt a strange sense of relief.
"Perhaps not," he said carelessly; "but it's too late now to mend matters." That afternoon she wrote several letters, and tore them up.

One, however, she retained, and handed it to Low to post at Indian Spring, whither he was going.

She called his attention to the superscription, being the same as the previous letter, and added, with affected gayety, "But if the answer isn't as prompt, perhaps it will be pleasanter than the last." Her quick feminine eye noticed a little excitement in his manner and a more studious attention to his dress.