"

Lorraine did not know how much of his talk was truth, but she went and
sat down by his saddle and began braiding her hair in two tight braids
like a squaw. If she did get a chance to run, she thought, she did not
want her hair flying loose to catch on bushes and briars. She had once
fled through a brush patch in Griffith Park with her hair flowing loose,
and she had not liked the experience, though it had looked very nice on
the screen.

Before she had finished the braiding, Al came over to the saddle and
untied his slicker roll and the grouse.

"Come on over to the fire," he said. "I'll learn yuh a trick or two
about camp cooking. If I'm goin' to keep yuh with me, you might just as
well learn how to cook. We'll be on the trail the biggest part of our
time, I expect."

He took her by the arm, just as any man might have done, and led her to
the fire that was beginning to crackle cheerfully. He set her down on
the side where the smoke would be least likely to blow her way and
proceeded to dress the grouse, stripping off skin and feathers together.
He unrolled the slicker and laid out a piece of bacon, a package of
coffee, a small coffeepot, bannock and salt. The coffeepot and the
grouse he took in one hand--his left, Lorraine observed--and started
toward the spring which she could hear gurgling in the shadows amongst
the trees.

Lorraine watched him sidelong. He seemed to take it for granted now that
she would stay where she was. The woods were dark, the firelight and the
warmth enticed her. The sight of the supper preparations made her
hungrier than she had ever been in her life before. When one has
breakfasted on one cup of coffee at dawn and has ridden all day with
nothing to eat, running away from food, even though that food is in the
hands of one's captor, requires courage. Lorraine was terribly tempted
to stay, at least until she had eaten. But Al might not give her another
chance like this. She crept on her knees to the slicker and seized one
piece of bannock, crawled out of the firelight stealthily, then sprang
to her feet and began running straight across the meadow toward Skinner.

Twenty yards she covered when a bullet sang over her head. Lorraine
ducked, stumbled and fell headfirst over a hummock, not quite sure that
she had not been shot.

"Thought maybe I could trust yuh to play square," Al said disgustedly,
pulling her to her feet, the gun still smoking in his hands. "You little
fool, what do yo