Perth Amboy evening news., 1912-01-19
tCopyright, 1914. BY " @. ChApn~a-l
(Continued.)

Il will go there directly" he aaid.
1T Ia now half after ten. That place
Is about seven miles or more from
here across the range, fifteen or twen-
~ by the river. l shall be back By
n.ghtfall. The cabin is your own"
He turned away without another
word.
Watt said the woman II am
afraid to stay here"
She had been fearless enough before
In those mountains. but her recent ex-
perience had somehow unsettled her
nerves.
"I'here is nothing on earth to hurt
you. / think. returned the man.
There isn't a human being, 20 far ~
I know, in these mountains"
Except my uncle's partyf"
He nodded.
but there might be another-bear,"
she added desperately, forcing herself.
Mot likely; and they wouldn't come
here ii there were any. That's the
nrst grizzly I have seen In years."
he went on, unconcernedly, studiously
looking away from her, not to add to
her confusion at the remembrance of
that awful episode which would OBJ
trude itself on every occasion. "You
can use a ride or gum"
She nodded. He stepped over to
the wall and took down the Winches-
ter which he handed her.
This one Ia ready for service, and
you will md a revolver on the shelf.
There is only one possible way of ac
cess to this cabin; that's down those
rock stairs. One man, one woman, q
child, even, with these weapons could
hold 1t against an army"
Couldn't / go with your"
ION that foor?"
Enid pressed her wounded foot upon
The ground. 1t was not 80 painful
when resting, but she found she could
not walk q step on It without great
tuffering.
r might carry you part OF the way"
raid the man. II carried you lat
80 DIT u 7npos~
81 it,"
Promise me that you will be back
by nightfall, with Uncle Bob and"
II shall be back by nightfall. but !
can't promise that / will bring any
body with me"
sYou meant"
AYou saw what the cloudburst near
" did for you.' was the quick an
ever. III they did not get out OF that
pocket. there is nothing left of them
now"
But they must have escaped. per-
sisted the girl. fighting down her
alarm at this blunt statement OF posi-
bic peril. Besides, Uncle Robert and
mtxt of the rest were climbing n OF
the peaks. and"
"They will be all right, then; but II
I am to find the place and tell them
your story, I must so now"
He turned, and without another
word or q backward glance. scrambled
down the hill. The girl limped to the
brink OF the cliff over which he had
plunged and stared after him. She
watched him as long as she could see
him, until he was lost among the
trees, II she had anybody else to de-
pend upon sho would certainly have
felt differently toward him; when
Uncle Robert, and her aunt, and the
children, and old Kirkby, and the rest
surrounded her, abe could hate that
man in spite of all he had done for
her, but now she stared after him de-
terminedly making his way down the
mountain and through the trees 1t
was with dificulty she could restrain
herself from calling him back. 3
The silence was most oppressive.
the loneliness was frightful. She had
heen alone before In those mountains,
but from choice; nov the fact that
there vas no escape from them made
the sensation q very different one.
She sat down and brooded over her