"What do you wish?" asked Shipman quietly. He had the quality of the man whom she had seen that first night at the organ builder's house, a quality of control and strength that a woman might lean on. Half unconsciously Sard did lean on it; a worried look had come over her face. "I feel responsible for Minga," she admitted, "for all of them; they're so queer, so almost horrid sometimes. I get fussed wondering how they'll turn out--they--they seem to have no Law." "They have the Law-of-the-Pack, apparently," said Shipman, laughing. He, too, remembered that night at the organ builder's house. He recalled the defiant young faces fixed upon him as he had disciplined one of their number. Shipman recalled the incident with some satisfaction. He thought particularly of Minga. "Little fiend, I'd like to--but that was just it--what did one do to little fiends like Minga?" His own frown was puzzled as he realized that it was getting late and that Minga and Colter were missing, yet what to do? Wait for the young lady to conclude her vagaries, or go forth after her and so pander to the vain little thing who had hidden herself in order to force him to search for her. Shipman half laughed at the unaccountable thoughts that had stolen into his mind; all Minga needed was to be well kissed, kissed very hard indeed. The lawyer, standing straight, drew a short breath. "H'm, perhaps it was time to get back to the mountain top, to Friar Tuck, to a plaster cast and a few old books and a pipe and some memories. By Jove, it was time to get back!" Suddenly Sard reached out and grasped the lawyer's arm. "Listen," she said eagerly. "There!" The touch, vigorous and arresting, sobered while it thrilled him; he flushed like a guilty boy. The lawyer, lost in cases and evidence and books, had not had companionship with a woman like this for years; it was like being with a young wind-blown tree or a sun-spangled fountain. It was so fresh and spontaneous and unconscious that it made him feel clumsy, lost, like some uncouth being that must find a new soul or else miss out on this companionship. The touch brought back things, college day things that were vital, almost Pagan in their care-free élan, so that his eyes deepened, almost snapped as he, in his turn, grasped the girl's hand. "There!" He mocked her. His hand closed on her fingers. But Sard seemed not to notice; she was listening intently; suddenly her eyes widened and she turned toward him. "That was Colter," she said decisively. "Hark! Yes--he needs help--he is calling; we must go." Pausing, her face flushed and earnestly fixed upon him, the famous lawyer suddenly realized untrammeled girlhood in all its essence of fineness and freedom; what he did not notice was that at the sound of the far-off voice of the man in the forest, her whole being had expanded like a light and that she stood for a moment like a young mother whose child cries. "Coming!" she called.