be sad; she was
not hiding away from the law, or anything like that.

When she became conscious of his presence she glanced up at him with
swift inquiry. "How's the fire?" she wanted to know, quite as though
that was the only subject that interested them both.

"She's all there," he returned briefly, coming in.

"Everything's ready," she announced cheerfully. "You must be half
starved. Do you see what time it is? nearly eight o'clock already. And
I never dreamed it, until a bird or something flew right past my face
and brought me to myself. I was watching Mount Lassen. Isn't it
_keen_, to have a volcano spouting off right in your front view? And a
fire on the other side, so if you get tired looking at one, you can
turn your head and look at the other one. And for a change, you can
watch the lake, or just gaze at the scenery; and say!--does the star
spangled banner still wave?"

"She still waves," Jack assented somberly, picking up the wash basin.
Why couldn't he enter the girl's foolery? He used to be full of it
himself, and he used to consider that the natural form of
companionship. He must be getting queer like all other hermits he had
ever heard of. It occurred to him that possibly Marion Rose was not
really feather-brained, but that the trouble was in himself, because
he was getting a chronic grouch.

He was thinking while he ate. He had plenty of encouragement for
thinking, because Marion herself seemed to be absorbed in her own
thoughts. When she was filling his coffee cup the second time, she
spoke quite abruptly.

"It would be terribly foolish for you to leave here, Jack Corey--or
whatever you would rather be called. I don't believe any one has the
faintest notion that you came up here into this country. If they had,
they would have come after you before this. But they're still on the
watch for you in other places, and I suppose every police station in
the country has your description tacked on the wall or some place.

"I believe you'd better stay right where you are, and wait till
something turns up to clear you. Maybe that man will get well, and
then it won't be so serious; though, of course, being right through
his lungs, the doctors claim it's pretty bad. I'll know if he dies or
not, because he's a friend of Fred's, and Fred would hear right away.
And we can make up a set of signals, and flash them with glasses, like
we were doing just for fun this afternoon. Then I won't have to climb
clear up her