crude, but rainproof at least--branches heaped across two forked limbs
for a roof; the trunk of a big tree for the rear wall; branches thrust
upright into the ground for the sides--the whole a little triangular
shaped affair. The fire blazed in front just within shelter at the
entrance; and beside it was piled quite a little heap of fuel that he
had gathered.

He came back bringing the leather upholstered seat, shook the rain from
it, and dried it with the help of the fire and his handkerchief--then
set it down inside the hut. His face was turned from her; and as he
spoke, breaking an awkward silence, his voice was conscious, hurried.

"I'm not going to be gone a minute more than I can help, Miss Vail. It's
mighty rough accommodation for you, but there's one consolation at
least--you'll be perfectly safe."

Helena seated herself, and held her skirt to the fire.

"Gone!" she said, a little dully. "Where are you going?"

"Why, to get help of course," he told her.

"Help!"--she shook her head. "You don't know where to find any--you only
know for a certainty that there isn't any within miles."

"I know there's a house back on the main road," he said. "I noticed it
as we came along."

"That's seven or eight miles from here," she returned. "And it's raining
harder than ever--mud up to your ankles--it would take you hours to