the trail, or, in the pandemonium, hear the rattle for which McLean had
cautioned him to listen. He stood motionless in an agony of fear. His
breath whistled between his teeth. The perspiration ran down his face
and body in little streams.

Something big, black, and heavy came crashing through the swamp close
to him, and with a yell of utter panic Freckles ran--how far he did not
know; but at last he gained control over himself and retraced his steps.
His jaws set stiffly and the sweat dried on his body. When he reached
the place from which he had started to run, he turned and with measured
steps made his way down the line. After a time he realized that he was
only walking, so he faced that sea of horrors again. When he came toward
the corduroy, the cudgel fell to test the wire at each step.

Sounds that curdled his blood seemed to encompass him, and shapes of
terror to draw closer and closer. Fear had so gained the mastery that he
did not dare look behind him; and just when he felt that he would fall
dead before he ever reached the clearing, came Duncan's rolling call:
"Freckles! Freckles!" A shuddering sob burst in the boy's dry throat;
but he only told Duncan that finding the wire down had caused the delay.

The next morning he started on time. Day after day, with his heart
pounding, he ducked, dodged, ran when he could, and fought when he was
brought to bay. If he ever had an idea of giving up, no one knew it; for
he clung to his job without the shadow of wavering. All these things, in
so far as he guessed them, Duncan, who had been set to watch the first
weeks of Freckles' work, carried to the Boss at the south camp; but
the innermost, exquisite torture of the thing the big Scotchman never
guessed, and McLean, with his finer perceptions, came only a little
closer.