Strange words for the leaden depression that had come over him at her anger, but he was fairly sincere in their employment. He believed--because he was forcing himself to believe--that he merely liked Nevada very much, and admired her, and was anxious to preserve the friendly relations into which they had drifted. It amused him to be called “Fifth Cousin” in that whimsical tone she used for the term. He thrilled a little whenever she reminded him thus of the make-believe relationship. To be called her cousin was somehow quite different. There was a chill in the word,--and any young man would rather be thrilled than chilled by a girl as beautiful, mentally and physically, as was Nevada. “I’ll tell her you didn’t know you were my son,” Peter was calmly planning aloud. “She’ll believe it, if I tell her so. I have never lied to Nevada in my life. She’ll believe whatever I tell her about this affair. She’s bound to.” He chuckled under his breath, still blinded by his relief at the attitude his family had taken. “A reputation for honesty comes in handy, sometimes!” “You don’t think, then, that it would be wise to tell Nevada the straight of it?” In spite of himself, Rawley spoke constrainedly. He wanted to appear nonchalant, even amused, but he knew that he was betraying himself to any man who chanced to observe him. “I don’t. The truth is not our secret, boy. It belongs to a silent, sad old woman who never speaks what’s in her heart and so is not considered as having any feelings. Do you think the taint of Indian relations will do you the slightest harm? Tell me honestly.” “No. I’m young, but I have made a certain name for myself for all that. I have the name of never having been bought and never leaving a job until I have the correct data. My clients have never yet inquired into my personal affairs. They never will. They know I’m an American; that’s about all that counts, these days, so far as your blood ties go.” “There isn’t one chance in fifty that this will ever be known, even in this district. We keep to ourselves. The old man has made it plain, ever since I can remember, that he doesn’t want his neighbors to come around the place. If you inquire amongst the miners and prospectors, you will hear that we are a tough outfit and best let alone. It is believed, as I told you, that we’re just a bunch of breeds digging out a little gold--enough to support us. Dad’s a half-crazy squaw-man, and Young Jess is mighty unpopular. Whatever business must be taken care of outside, I attend to myself. Or Nevada sometimes does it for me. She never talks with people except when it’s necessary. Whenever she goes to Nelson, or to Las Vegas, my mother goes with her.