"What do you wish?" she asked, angrily. Her head was reared, and in the dim light her eyes glowed as they caught reflections from the fire. She showed no fear. "Just wants to talk to you about old times," whined Banker. "Old Jim wants to talk to Pete's gal, ma'am." "I heard a shot a while ago," said Solange sharply. "Where is Monsieur Dave?" "I don't know nothin' about Dave, ma'am. Reckon he'll be back. Boys like him don't leave purty gals alone long--less'n he's got keerless and gone an' hurt hisself. Boys is keerless that a way and they don't know the mount'ins like old Jim does. They goes and dies in 'em, ma'am--but old Jim don't die. He knows the mount'ins, he does! He, he!" Solange took a step toward him. "What do you wish?" she repeated, sternly. Still, she did not fear him. "Just to talk, ma'am. Just to talk about French Pete. Just to talk about gold. Old Jim's been a-huntin' gold a many years, ma'am. And Pete, he found gold and I reckon he told his gal where the gold was. He writ a paper before he died, they say, and I reckon he writ on that paper where the gold was, didn't he?" "No, he did not," said the girl, shortly and contemptuously. "So you'd say; so you'd say, of course." He chuckled again. "There wasn't no one could read that Basco writin'. But he done writ it. Now, you tell old Jim what that writin' says, and then you and old Jim will find that gold." Solange suddenly laughed, bitterly. "Tell you? Why yes, I'll tell you. It said----" "Yes, ma'am! It said----" He was slaveringly eager as he stepped toward her. "It said--to my mother--that she should seek out the man who killed him and take vengeance on him!" Jim reeled back, cringing and mouthing. "Said--said what? You're lyin'. It didn't say it!" "I have told you what it said. Now, stand aside and let me get into my tent!" With supreme contempt, she walked up to him as though she would push him aside. It was a fatal mistake, though she nearly succeeded. The gibbering, cracked old fiend shrank, peering fearfully, away from her blazing eyes and the black halo, rimmed with flashing color, of her hair. For a moment it seemed that he would yield in terror and give her passage. But terror gave place suddenly to crazy rage. With an outburst of bloodcurdling curses, he flung himself upon her. She thought to avoid him, but he was as quick as a cat and as wiry and strong as a terrier. Before she could leap aside, his claw-like hands were tangled in her coat and he was dragging her to him. She fought. She struck him, kicked and twisted with all her splendid, lithe strength, but it was in vain. He clung like a leech, dragging her closer in spite of all she could do. She beat at his snarling face and the mouth out of which were whining things she fortunately did not understand. His yellow fangs were bare and saliva dripped from them.