There was something about his insistent civility that betokened a
set purpose, and since Ben (what a wonder Ben was) had told Cora
that a man named Jones "hung out" with Jim Peters, Cora instantly
guessed that this was the man, and that he was determined to keep
her away from the shack. The situation gave zest to her purpose.
Bess was fairly quaking as Cora could see, but what danger could
there be in insisting upon finding that shack?

"I have only a short time to be out," objected Cora, "and perhaps
some other time I will come to see your everglade. Come, Bess, I
see a path this way, and I fancy if we follow it we will find an end
to the path," she concluded.

"But may I not have the pleasure of your name?" the man called after
her. "Perhaps we might meet--"

"Don't," whispered Bess. "Pretend you did not hear him."

"Oh, just see those flag lilies!" Cora called to Bess, covering the
man's question without answering it. "Let us get some."

"Oh, aren't they beautiful!" replied Bess, in a strained voice. "I
certainly must secure some of those."

They hurried away from the dark-browed man. He took his hand out of
his pocket and upon the smallest finger his eyes rested. He sneered
as he looked at a diamond ring that glittered on that slim brown
finger.

"Foolish maid," he said aloud, and then the web of a strange force