He heard her quick breathing, marked a slight change in the expression of the dark eyes, and caught the glitter of the firelight on a revolver in her lowered hand.
“What did you expect to find?”
“I hardly knew,” he explained lamely; “we stumbled on this hut by accident. I didn't know there was a cabin in all this valley.”
“Then you are not here for any purpose? to meet with any one?”
“No; we were lost, and had gone into camp up above, when we discovered your light.”
“Where do you come from?”
Keith hesitated just an instant, yet falsehood was never easy for him, and he saw no occasion for any deceit now.
“Carson City.”
“What brought you here?”
“We started for the 'Bar X' Ranch down below, on the Canadian; got caught in a sand-storm, and then just drifted. I do not know within twenty miles of where we are.”
She drew a deep breath of unconcealed relief.
“Are you alone?”
“The negro and I—yes; and you haven't the slightest reason to be afraid of us—we're square.”
She looked at him searchingly, and something in Keith's clean-cut face seemed to bring reassurance, confidence in the man.
“I am not afraid,” she answered, coming toward him around the short table. “Only it is so lonely here, and you startled me, bursting in without warning. But you look all right, and I am going to believe your story. What is your name?”
“Keith—Jack Keith.”
“A cowman?”
“A little of everything, I reckon,” a touch of returning bitterness in the tone. “A plainsman, who has punched cattle, but my last job was
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