that her heart was singing to his the last wild defiance of the
almost-won.

At a sharp turn he came suddenly upon a cleared space shoring
along the water's edge, lit by a blazing camp-fire. Within the
circle of the glow she stood, a spent, panting figure, half
supported by two men. A hunting-dog dashed forward, menacing the
oncomer with stiffened back and bared teeth. The man strode into
the group and said with quiet courtesy:

"Good evening, gentlemen. I am glad you rounded her up, for both
consarned. Peachey, my hat's off to you an' all your tribe: you'd
have run till you dropped. I see, gentlemen, that you're sizin'
me up, which is natural an' gratifyin'. But things is square an'
satisfactory between me and her, I do assure you."

The younger of the two--a tall, keen-faced man of city-bred
appearance--turned to the girl and said with irritation:

"I don't understand. What does he mean? Are you his wife?"

She was leaning against a tree, her face averted. "No!" she
panted vehemently. "No, no!"

"Tell yer it's Crane's gal," insisted the second man. "They live
over yonder on the island. I pointed it aout a-comin' through the
woods, the day you landed up here, Mr. Hemsley."

"Have you any claim on this girl?" demanded Hemsley, wheeling
upon the stranger.