"And
thou goest?"
Frona nodded.
"And Tenas Hee-Hee goest! Ai! Ai! Ai!"
The tent-flap lifted, and Matt McCarthy peered in. "It's yerself,
Frona, is it? With breakfast waitin' this half-hour on ye, an' old
Andy fumin' an' frettin' like the old woman he is. Good-mornin' to ye,
Neepoosa," he addressed Frona's companions, "an' to ye, Muskim, though,
belike ye've little mimory iv me face."
The old couple grunted salutation and remained stolidly silent.
"But hurry with ye, girl," turning back to Frona. "Me steamer starts
by mid-day, an' it's little I'll see iv ye at the best. An' likewise
there's Andy an' the breakfast pipin' hot, both iv them."
CHAPTER III
Frona waved her hand to Andy and swung out on the trail. Fastened
tightly to her back were her camera and a small travelling satchel. In
addition, she carried for alpenstock the willow pole of Neepoosa. Her
dress was of the mountaineering sort, short-skirted and scant, allowing
the greatest play with the least material, and withal gray of color and
modest.
Her outfit, on the backs of a dozen Indians and in charge of Del
Bishop, had got under way hours before. The previous day, on her
return with Matt McCarthy from the Siwash camp, she had found Del
Bishop at the store waiting her. His business was quickly transacted,
for the proposition he made was terse and to the point.
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