the shadiest
part of the grove could not wipe out all memory of the past few days,
nor quiet the uneasiness which had come to be Good Indian's portion.

"I've got to go up on the hill again right after dinner,
Squaw-with-sun-hair," he told her at last. "I can't rest, somehow, as
long as those gentlemen are camping down in the orchard. You won't mind,
will you?" Which shows that the hour had not been spent in quarreling,
at all events.

"Certainly not," Evadna replied calmly. "Because I'm going with you. Oh,
you needn't get ready to shake your head! I'm going to help you, from
now on, and talk law and give advice and 'scout around,' as you call it.
I couldn't be easy a minute, with old Hagar on the warpath the way she
is. I'd imagine all sorts of things."

"You don't realize how hot it is," he discouraged.

"I can stand it if you can. And I haven't seen Georgie for DAYS. She
must get horribly lonesome, and it's a perfect SHAME that I haven't been
up there lately. I'm sure she wouldn't treat ME that way." Evadna
had put on her angelic expression. "I WOULD go oftener," she declared
virtuously, "only you boys always go off without saying anything
about it, and I'm silly about riding past that Indian camp alone. That
squaw--the one that caught Huckleberry the other day, you know--would
hardly let go of the bridle. I was scared to DEATH, only I wouldn't let
her see. I believe now she's in with old Hagar, Grant. She kept asking
me where you were, and looked so--"

"I think, on the whole, we'd better wait till after supper when it's
cooler, Goldenhair," Good Indian observed, when she hesitated over
something she had not quite decided to say. "I suppose I really ought
to stay and help the boys with that clover patch that Mother Hart is
worrying so about. I guess she thinks we're a lazy bunch, all right,
when the old man's gone. We'll go up this evening, if you like."

Evadna eyed him with open suspicion, but if she could read his real
meaning from anything in his face or his eyes or his manner, she must
have been a very keen observer indeed.

Good Indian was meditating what he called "making a sneak." He wanted
to have a talk with Miss Georgie himself, and he certainly did not want
Evadna, of all people, to hear what he had to say. For just a minute
he wished that they had quarreled again. He went down to the stable,
started to saddle Keno, and then decided that he would not. After all,
Hagar's gossip could do no real h