minds were not at work, but he did know that at such times their scent was negative. He could identify those he had met before but that was all—he could not classify them with nose and ear as when they thought and spoke.
One of these he knew was Dad Kinney whom he had often met with Moran. The other was a stranger to him, but neither of them interested him in the least.
The third was of a kind he had never seen. He knew unerringly that this was the female of the species man—the first woman he had known. She radiated bubbling vitality and health and a wholesome, friendly interest in all things—and from this Flash knew that she was not asleep.
She was lying awake, enjoying the silvery bugle chorus of challenging bulls that came from far and near—in love with the spell of the Short Blue Moon.
Flash was irresistibly drawn to her. He wanted to creep close and investigate this strange being. He knew she was watching him and he stepped from under the trees into the moonlit open space and stopped.
Then the girl spoke.
“Come here,” she said.
