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"It is a most amazing thing that you should ask me that, Miss Fenshawe," he cried. "Sh-s-s-h. I have always imagined you to be a man who would smile in the midst of earthquakes, yet here you are quite dazzled by a harmless bit of feminine curiosity. Don't you wish me to know how you came by that nickname? I suppose it is one?" "There is no other in whom I would confide so willingly," he said.
His right arm flew out and drew her to him. "Sh-s-s-h!" he breathed, and pulled her behind a rock. Her woman's heart yielded to dread of the unseen. It pulsed violently, and she was tempted to scream. Despite his warning, she must at least have whispered a question, but her ears caught a sound to which they were now well accustomed.
More than that, the feeling was so terrible that I knew I would welcome discovery as a relief. "Sh-s-s-h!" whispered some one below. I turned my eyes down to the peep-hole. Bud had moved over squarely into the light of the door. He was bending over something. Then he extended his hand, back uppermost, toward Buell. On the back of that broad brown hand were pieces of leaf and bits of pine-needles.
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