“There’re spring holes in Forlorn River an’ the trout will collect there,” asserted the boy. “Ben Ide will show us.”

Ina found herself blushing, and consciousness of the fact brought an added wave of scarlet.

“Say, Sis, you’re as red as a beet,” declared Marvie, wonderingly.

“Am I? … Oh, it’s nothing,” replied Ina, feeling her hot cheeks. But she knew it was a great deal.

Marvie leaned close to her and his loyal eyes pierced her. “Ben lives across the lake, at the mouth of the river. We can see his home from where we’ll be campin’.”

“Well, what of that?” queried Ina, smiling at him.

“Why, nothin’ much, except you can bet I’ll slip over there to see Ben, an’ take you along if you want to go.”

“Marvie, you think I’ll want to?” went on Ina, composedly. Marvie was showing depths hitherto unsuspected.

“I’ve a hunch you will,” declared the boy, bluntly. “Outside of ridin’ an’ fishin’! … Now listen, Sis. I knew about this plan of dad’s before he sprung it on us. I heard him an’ Less Setter talkin’ out by the barn. They were talkin’ about gettin’ hold of Ben Ide’s water an’ land. Dad wanted to buy from Ben, but Setter swore he was goin’ to run Ben out of the country. An’, Ina, after that I heard one of our cowboys say Setter had dad buffaloed.”

“Well!” ejaculated Ina, with difficulty controlling the flash of resentment that swept over her. “Marvie, I don’t like that,” she added, deliberating.

“Neither do I,” rejoined the lad, stoutly. “An’ worse than that I hate the way Setter looks at you, Ina. Goodness knows I thought that McAdam fellar was hard enough to stand. But Setter’s different…. I wish I was older an’ bigger.”

“Marvie, you’re fine, just as you are,” said Ina, sweetly. “We’ve a secret between us. I—almost hate Mr. Setter myself. I’m afraid he is not what dad thinks. And between them they are going to injure Ben Ide…. Marvie, Ben was—is a dear old friend. I don’t believe what they say about him.”

“Ina, I’m for Ben any day, an’ you can bet on that,” replied Marvie.

“That’s fine, Marvie. I don’t believe you will be sorry. Let’s keep our eyes and ears open. It’s not dishonest, considering what we believe is injustice to Ben Ide. Let’s play a game, Marvie.”

Ina did not explain just what kind of a game she meant; nevertheless Marvie fell into it with an air of intense eagerness and importance.

“Don’t tell Dall nothin’,” he said, finally. “She’s only a girl an’ can’t be trusted. An’ she’s afraid of dad.”