"They're coming," he said harshly. "Pete, they're after me. Men are
coming across the flat."




CHAPTER VII


"Did they see you?" Pete demanded anxiously.

"I don't think so." Hugh was breathing fast; he had evidently fled
across the snow at top speed.

"Get in, then, quick--out of sight." Pete was already tearing up
boards above that long-waiting place of hiding. Hugh was about to
step down into it when he glanced up and saw Sylvie. She was standing
as the unseeing stand in moments of frightened bewilderment, her hands
clasped, her head turning from side to side. "Look here," whispered
Hugh, still absorbed in his own danger, "don't let them know that
Sylvie just wandered in here. Don't let them start asking her any
questions; it's too dangerous. Let her be--one of the family." He
smiled maliciously. "Let her be your wife, Pete." Then, as though
that picture had fired his love through its hint of jeopardy, he held
out both arms suddenly: "Come here, Sylvie--lead her to me, Pete."

The boy obeyed. But as her uncertain arms trembled about Hugh's
shoulders Pete turned sharply away. He heard the quick, anxious murmur
of their voices: