” He frowned. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. Yon must be mine to-night. This child was frequently disconcerting. "In spots you are a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. He’s out in Phoenix last I heard. You can, too, if you wish.
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