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Some one came softly up behind her. An arm encircled her. She turned with the day-dream still in her eyes and saw her brother.

She pulled down her sleeve quickly, for though his face was kind, he seemed to look at her oddly, almost with suspicion.

“Had a quiet day?” he questioned, gently.

She leaned against his shoulder, feeling small and rather uncomfortable. “I–I was very busy all the morning,” she said, evasively.

“And in the afternoon?” he said.

She nestled to him with a little coaxing movement. “In the afternoon,” she told him softly, “I went to sleep.”

“Yes?” he said.

“That’s all,” said Dot, lifting her face to kiss him.

He took her chin and held it while he looked long and searchingly into her eyes.

“Dot!” he said.

She made a little gesture of protest, but he held her still.

“Dot, tell me what has been happening!” he said.

She had begun to tremble. “I’ll tell you,” she said, “when Inspector Hill has gone.”

“Tell me now!” he said.

But she shook her head with tightly compressed lips.

“You have seen the man!” he said.

Dot remained silent.

His face grew grim. “Dot! Shall I tell you what Hill said to me just now?”

“If you like,” whispered Dot.

“He said, ‘She has seen the man, and he has squared her. It’s a way he has with the women. You’ll find she won’t give him away.'”

That stung, as it was meant to sting. She flinched under it. “I hate Inspector Hill!” she said, with vehemence.

He smiled a little. “I don’t suppose that fact would upset him much. A good many people don’t exactly love him. But look here, Dot! You’re not a fool. At least, I hope not. You can’t seriously wish to shield a thief. Only this morning you were going to shoot him!”

“Ah!” she said. And then suddenly she pulled up her sleeve and showed him the mark upon her arm. “But he has saved my life since then,” she said.

“What?” said Jack. He caught her arm and looked at it. “You’ve had a snake-bite!” he said.

“Yes, Jack.”

His eyes went back to her face. “Why didn’t you tell me before? What kind of snake was it?”

She told him, shuddering. “A horrible green thing–green as the grass. I think it had some black marking on its back. I’m not sure. I didn’t stop to see. I–oh, Jack!” She broke off in swift consternation. “There is a dead lamb!”

“Ah!” said Jack, and strode across to the barn where it lay, stark and lifeless in the shade in which it had taken refuge from the afternoon heat.

“Oh, Jack!” cried Dot, in distress. “What can have happened to it? Not–not that hateful snake?”

“Not much doubt as to that,” said Jack, grimly. “No, don’t look too close! It’s not a pretty sight. And don’t cry, child! What’s the good?”

He drew her away, his arm around her, holding her closely, comforting her. “It might have been you,” he said.

She lifted her wet face from his shoulder. “It was–it would have been–but for–“

“All right,” he interrupted. “Don’t say any more!”

* * * * *

He left her to recover herself and went back to Fletcher Hill, sardonically awaiting him.

“On a wrong scent this time,” he said. “She’s lost one of the lambs from snake-bite, and it’s upset her. She’s a ‘new chum,’ you know.”

“I know,” said Inspector Hill.

Jack Burton leaned upon the table and looked him in the eyes. “My sister is not a detective,” he said, warningly. “Buckskin Bill has been one too many for us this time. The odds were dead against him, but he’s slipped through. And I’ve a pretty firm notion he won’t come back.”

“So have I,” said Inspector Hill, unmoved.

“And a blasted good job too!” said Jack Burton, forcibly.

A gleam of humour crossed the Inspector’s face. He pulled out his pipe with a gesture that made for peace.

“If I were in your place,” he said, “I daresay I’d say the same.”