"You wish to see some one?" he drawled. "You, greaser!" blurted Higgins in anger. "Hanged if I've seen such a sassy half-breed since I left Mexico." The man's lazy-lidded eyes narrowed to a slit. He came forward. "Unless you are known you had better go elsewhere," he murmured. "Really?" said Payne. "Don't bother to be polite to him," growled Higgins. "Can't you see he's a greaser? Get out of the way, _hombre_; we want to talk to some one with brains." Payne caught the engineer by the shoulder and held him back. "We just want directions for getting up to the headwaters," he said. "I still repeat: unless you are known, you had better go elsewhere." "That's what we want to do. We're going up to the headwaters. This place happens to be on our way." "You are not known here?" "No." "Then go back." The Mexican pointed toward the path whence they had come. "Go back where you came from--and quickly." "No," said Payne slowly, "that doesn't suit our program. We're going that way." He pointed across the clearing toward the blue water of the lake. "Call your boss, greaser," snapped Higgins. "Let's talk to him." He raised his voice to a shrieking falsetto. "Help, help!" Payne looked toward the boat landing instinctively. The girl of the dawn on Gumbo Key was coming toward them, laughing; and the trees and the vine flowers and the sun all seemed to laugh with her. "Oh, it's you, is it?" she said. "And the red-haired man, too!" "Auburn!" protested Higgins, baring his fiery poll. "The best barbers of the West have told me it's auburn." Ramos bowed deferentially. "You know these men, miss?" The girl and Payne looked at one another a long while. At last she turned resolutely to Ramos. "Yes; I know them." "My orders----" "That's all right, Ramos, I know them." "Perhaps you will tell me who they are?" "Perhaps." "Ah! Yes. Perhaps. Mrs. Livingstone called me. She did not know these men." "I do. And I scarcely know you at all, Ramos. What are you; what is your job round here?" "Caretaker, miss. Especially--when Mr. Garman is away." "Annette!" It was the older woman again. "Aunty," the girl whirling about resolutely, "I want to know a lot of things; why is there said to be a colony here when there is only Mr. Garman's winter home? Why is there all this mystery round here? Why does Ramos prowl round like a watchdog?" "Come in the house, dear. Leave Ramos to deal with the strangers." "Why don't you answer me, aunty?" "You foolish child!" "I'm not a child." The red was burning in the girl's creamy cheeks. "I won't be treated as a child. I want to know." "Please, Annette, do not discuss your affairs before strangers." "Strangers! Why, aunty, it's you who are strange to me. I can't understand you. It's all strange. My father letting me come here alone before he comes--he's strange, too, lately." "I suppose Mr. Garman is strange to you too?"