Eve walked slowly to the blanket. She drank out of the tin pail. Then she set aside the food, lay down, and buried her quivering face in her arms. * * * * * The sun was half way between zenith and horizon when she heard somebody coming, and rose to a sitting posture. Her visitor was Quintana. He came up to her quite close, stood with glittering eyes intent upon her. After a moment he handed her a letter. She could scarcely unfold it, she trembled so: "Girlie, for God's sake give that packet to Quintana and come on home. I'm near crazy with it all. What the hell's anything worth beside you girlie. I don't give a damn for nothing only you, so come on quick. Dad." * * * * * After a little while she lifted her eyes to Quintana. "So," he said quietly, "you are the little she-fox that has learned tricks already." "What do you mean?" "Where is that packet?" "I haven't it." "Where is it?" She shook her head slightly. "You had a packet," he insisted fiercely. "Look here! Regard!" and he spread out a penciled sheet in Clinch's hand: "Jose Quintana: "You win. She's got that stuff with her. Take your damn junk and let my girl go. "MIKE CLINCH." "Well," said Quintana, a thin, strident edge to his tone. "My father is mistaken. I haven't any packet." The man's visage behind his mask flushed darkly. Without warning or ceremony he caught Eve by the throat and tore open her shirt. Then, hissing and cursing and panting with his own violence, he searched her brutally and without mercy--flung her down and tore off her spiral puttees and even her shoes and stockings, now apparently beside himself with fury, puffing, gasping, always with a fierce, nasal sort of whining undertone like an animal worrying its kill. "Cowardly beast!" she panted, fighting him with all her strength--"filthy, cowardly beast!----" striking at him, wrenching his grasp away, snatching at the disordered clothing half stripped from her. His hunting knife fell clattering and she fought to get it, but he struck her with his open hand, knocking her down at his feet, and stood glaring at her with every tooth bared. "So," he cried, "I give you ten minutes, make up your mind, tell me what you do with that packet." He wiped the blood from his face where she had struck him. "You don't know Jose Quintana. No! You shall make his acquaintance. Yes!" Eve got up on naked feet, quivering from head to foot, striving to button the grey shirt at her throat. "Where?" he demanded, beside himself. Her mute lips only tightened. "Ver' well, by God!" he cried. "I go make me some fire. You like it, eh? We shall put one toe in the fire until it burn off. Yes? Eh? How you like it? Eh?" The girl's trembling hands continued busy with her clothing. "So!" he said, hoarsely, "you remain dumb! Well, then, in ten minutes you shall talk!"