Her face was more inscrutable than ever.
She was pondering deeply the problem of Bill Holmes' business with Ramon, and she was half tempted to tell Wagalexa Conka of that secret intimacy which must carry on its converse under cover of night.

She did not trust Bill Holmes.

Why must he keep Ramon posted?
She glanced ahead to where Luck stood thinking deeply about something, and her eyes softened in a shy sympathy with his trouble.

Wagalexa Conka worked hard and thought much and worried more than was good for him.

Bill Holmes, she decided fiercely, should not add to those worries.