Page:J Allan Dunn--The Girl of Ghost Mountain.djvu/75

Rh Her face he had not seen clearly. But, what had brought her to so solitary a spot, who had given her the secret to this hidden homestead?

"The Big One, she's a whale!" said Jackson. There was respect rather than ridicule in his voice. "She's the biggest woman I ever see, short of a circus. And she's no freak. Well built. I'll bet that yarn of her crackin' them two fresh ranch-hands' heads is true. How in time did they ever make out to come to this hole in a hill?"

"They'll tell us, if they want to. We don't want to seem too inquisitive on a first visit, Red."

"Not me. I ain't that kind of a neighbor."

The girl and the woman stood on the verandah to bid them welcome and then the two men followed them into a big room where a fire burned low in a stone fireplace. It was somewhat primitively furnished. The big table, a settle, and two or three chairs, were eminently home-made and also evidently old, but they were not without some lines of grace and well put together.

"It will look more homey when the rest of our things arrive," said the girl as she noticed their glances. "When we get some curtains up and a squashy pillow or so. They are following us by freight, you know?"

She had a fascinating air of taking them into her confidence though it really mystified them the more. The Big One stood by silent, an Amazon on guard. She too was in khaki skirt, her well-shaped legs in high-laced boots, a khaki sweater tight over her great chest, ample breasted. Above it, her neck rose