One hour later she had gone back to the mission—without the salt. “Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss. ’. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient.
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