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 him so eagerly about this Indian girl, why she had sought to learn from him whether the girl was beautiful. Yes, she had been afraid of this girl, this daughter of Chief Concha's, from the moment when she had learned of the girl's existence. Loving Barradell, yet she had doubted him, had lacked faith in his constancy.

Lachlan could not tell Almayne where these thoughts carried him. Indeed, he himself did not know. He was aware only of a sudden new sense of freedom, as though a weight had been struck from around his neck.

He could not explain this feeling, did not try to explain it. Instead, he turned to the question of what their course should be. Should they tell Jolie at once or should they wait? It was instinct, perhaps, that determined him upon the latter course; and Almayne, pointing out that weeks might pass before they could leave their refuge on the mountain, could see no reason for haste in imparting to Jolie what they had learned.

This settled, they walked slowly back toward the camp and saw Mr. O'Sullivan sitting on watch, his white head gleaming in the bright moonlight. The same thought came to them both. Almayne uttered a low whistle and beckoned O'Sullivan. He came to them quickly and Lachlan told him of the news that Aganuntsi had brought.

For some moments the little man stood silent before them, his head bowed. Then he lifted his face to