"
"I guessed as much," replied Alan. "Of course Keok and Nawadlook helped
her."
"Not very much. She did it. Made the curtains. Put them pictures and
flags there. Picked the flowers. Been nice an' thoughtful, hasn't she?"
"And somewhat unusual," added Alan.
"And she is pretty."
"Most decidedly so."
There was a puzzling look in Stampede's eyes. He twisted nervously in
his chair and waited for words. Alan sat down opposite him.
"What's on your mind, Stampede?"
"Hell, mostly," shot back Stampede with sudden desperation. "I've come
loaded down with a dirty job, and I've kept it back this long because I
didn't want to spoil your fun tonight. I guess a man ought to keep to
himself what he knows about a woman, but I'm thinking this is a little
different. I hate to do it. I'd rather take the chance of a snake-bite.
But you'd shoot me if you knew I was keeping it to myself."
"Keeping what to yourself?"
"The truth, Alan. It's up to me to tell you what I know about this young
woman who calls herself Mary Standish."
CHAPTER XVI
The physical sign of strain in Stampede's face, and the stolid effort he
was making to say something which it was difficult for him to put into
words, did not excite Alan as he waited for his companion's promised
disclosure. Instead of suspense he felt rather a sense of anticipation
and relief.
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