hard. It was a way with Jolly Roger, and she had not known him
long enough to understand what it meant. And a little later he had
asked her if he might touch her hair--and his big hand had lain
for a moment on her head, as gently as a woman's.

Like a warm glow in her heart still remained the touch of that
hand. It had given her a new courage, and a new thrill, just as
Peter's vanquishment of unknown monsters that day had done the
same for him. Peter was no longer afraid, and the girl was no
longer afraid, and together they went along the slope of the
ridge, until they came to a dried-up coulee which was choked with
a wild upheaval of rock. Here Peter suddenly stopped, with his
nose to the ground, and then his legs stiffened, and for the first
time the girl heard the babyish growl in his throat. For a moment
she stood very still, and listened, and faintly there came to her
a sound, as if someone was scraping rock against rock. The girl
drew in a quick breath; she stood straighter, and Peter--looking
up--saw her eyes flashing, and her lips apart. And then she bent
down, and picked up a jagged stick.

"We'll go up, Peter," she whispered. "It's one of his hiding-
places!"

There was a wonderful thrill in the knowledge that she was no
longer afraid, and the same thrill was in Peter's swiftly beating
little heart as he followed her. They went very quietly, the girl
on tip-toe, and Peter making no sound with his soft footpads, so
that Jed Hawkins was still on his knees, with his back toward
them, when they came out into a square of pebbles and sand between
two giant masses of rock. Yesterday, or the day before, both Peter