camp now and get bandaged up.” [20] The auburn brows drew together in another frown, and the eyes under them peered toward him in open suspicion. “I ain’t so sure about that,” she asserted. “I can git home some way alone, if I have to, and I don’t figger to stay up here all night. Who are you?” “Oh, just a rambling camper. But don’t be silly. I’m not a skunk. I’ll gladly take you home if it’s possible and sensible, but until you’re in condition to travel it’s neither. Now you need a bandage on that arm, some hot water on the ankle, and—are you hungry?” “I’m ’most starved,” she admitted. “I got mad and run away this mornin’, and I ain’t et since breakfast.” “Oho! I’m afraid you’re a temperamental little redbird. Well, come on down to camp and I’ll feed you bacon and beans—and hot coffee, lots of it. How’s that?” “Sounds awful good. I guess you’re all right. You go ’long and show the way.” She turned about on her stone. The movement disclosed a long rent in the faded dress, running from arm to waist, through which glowed pink flesh. Her skirt, too, was badly ripped. The man behind the light switched it from her to the formidable mass of stones ahead. “If you can stub along on one foot,” he suggested, “we can make better progress by hugging each other. I can stand it if you can.” [21]A quick laugh answered him. The light veered back, revealing dancing eyes, perfect teeth, and flushed cheeks under the glowing hair. [21] “I can stand ’most anything—if I have to,” she flashed. “And it looks like I’d have to.” “By George! Young lady, you’re a little beauty when you laugh! I think I’m going to enjoy this trip. Wait a minute and I’ll let you put your arm around my neck.” Followed the grind of boot-soles and the approach of the lamp. “You’re awful good.” She laughed again. “You’d ought to sell soft soap for a livin’, you’ve got so much of it.” “Humph! That’ll do. Now let’s walk.”
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