"Fighting blood," he muttered admiringly to himself. "Might fail to
develop into very much of a society belle, but likely to prove valuable
out here."
She was rather a slender slip of a thing, a trifle too tall for her
years, perhaps, yet with no lack of development apparent in the slim,
rounded figure. Her coarse home-made dress of dark calico fitted her
sadly, while her rumpled hair, from which the broad-brimmed hat had
fallen, possessed a reddish copper tinge where it was touched by the
sun. Mr. Hampton's survey did not increase his desire for more
intimate acquaintanceship, yet he recognized anew her undoubted claim
upon him.
"Suppose I might just as well drop out that way as any other," he
reflected, thoughtfully. "It's all in the game."
Lying flat upon his stomach, both arms extended, he slowly forced
himself beyond his bowlder into the open. There was no great distance
to be traversed, and a considerable portion of the way was somewhat
protected by low bushes. Hampton took few chances of those spying eyes
above, never uplifting his head the smallest fraction of an inch, but
reaching forward with blindly groping hands, caught hold upon any
projecting root or stone which enabled him to drag his body an inch
farther.
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