Flip had apparently been writing.

A small inkstand was still on the board table, but her paper had evidently been concealed before she allowed them to enter.

The squaw instantly squatted before the adobe hearth, warmed her bundled baby, and left the ceremony of introduction to her companion.

Flip regarded the two with calm preoccupation and indifference.

The only thing that touched her interest was the old squaw's draggled skirt and limp neckerchief.