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I made no reply. He looked momentous, leaned to me sidewise with a hand horizontally across his mouth, and whispered a name. It was new to me. "Charlie Toliver?" I murmured, for we were at the tent door.

"Suppose it wasn't either."

"Yes, bub," I replied. The two men laughed so explosively that my horse lifted his head austerely.

"I am to know Miss Rothvelt by finding her in a certain place." My honeyed bow implied that her being just now very much out of place was no fault of mine.

"Yes." She stooped low under the interlacing boughs and plunged with me into the double darkness.

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