For one moment he entertained the facetious idea of appearing to rush frantically away, "just to see what the girl would do," but abandoned it.

"It's an even thing if she wouldn't spot me the first pop," he reflected admiringly.
When they had reached the open hillside, Lance stopped inquiringly.
"This way," she said, pointing toward the summit, and in quite an opposite direction to the valley where he had heard the voices, one of which he now recognized as hers.

They skirted the thicket for a few moments, and then turned sharply into a trail which began to dip toward a ravine leading to the valley.
"Why do you have to go all the way round ?" he asked.
"_We_ don't," the girl replied with emphasis; "there's a shorter cut." "Where ?" "That's telling," she answered shortly.
"What's your name ?" asked Lance, after a steep scramble and a drop into the ravine.
"Flip." "What ?" "Flip." "I mean your first name,--your front name." "Flip." "Flip! Oh, short for Felipa!" "It ain't Flipper,--it's Flip." And she relapsed into silence.
"You don't ask me mine ?" suggested Lance.
She did not vouchsafe a reply.
"Then you don't want to know ?" "Maybe Dad will.

You can lie to _him_." This direct answer apparently sustained the agreeable homicide for some moments.

He moved onward, silently exuding admiration.
"Only," added Flip, with a sudden caution, "you'd better agree with me." The trail here turned again abruptly and reentered the canon.