Rhoda stared at the young man. The calm effrontery of him, the
cleverness of him, to ask a favor of her! She turned from him to the
distant ranges. She did not realize how much she turned from the
roughness of the camp to the far desert views! Brooding, aloof, how
big the ranges were, how free, how calm! For the first time her
keeping Kut-le in Coventry seemed foolish to her. Of what avail was
her silence, except to increase her own loneliness? Suddenly she
smiled grimly. The game was a good one. Perhaps she could play it as
well as the Indian.

"If you wish, you may," she said coldly.

Then she ignored the utter joy and astonishment in the young man's face
and set about roasting the rabbit that Molly had dressed. She tossed
the tortillas as Molly had taught her and baked them over the coals.
She set forth the cans and baskets that formed the camp dinner-set and
served the primitive meal. Kut-le watched the preparations silently.
When the rabbit was cooked the two sat down on either side of the flat
rock that served as a table while the other three squatted about
Cesca's stew-pot near the fire.

It was the first time that Rhoda and Kut-le had eaten tête-à-tête.
Hitherto Rhoda had taken her food off to a secluded corner and eaten it
alone. There was an intimacy in thus sitting together at the meal
Rhoda had prepared, that both felt.

"Are you glad you did this for me, Rhoda?" asked Kut-le.

"I didn't do it for you!" returned Rhoda. "I did it for my own