ess was forgotten. Eagerly, as if fresh and strong, but with careful
eyes and every sense keenly alert, he went forward on the trail that he
knew must lead him to Sibyl Andres.

He did not attempt to solve the problem of how the girl came there, nor
did he pause to wonder about her companion. He did not even ask himself if
Sibyl were living or dead. He thought of nothing; knew nothing; was
conscious of nothing; but the trail that led away into the depths of the
mountain wilderness. Insensible to his own physical condition; without
food; unacquainted with the wild country into which he was going; reckless
of danger to himself but with all possible care and caution for the sake
of the girl he loved, he went on.

Coming to the brink of the gorge in which the cabin was hidden, the trail,
following the rim, soon led him to the ledge that lay across the face of
the cliff at the head of the narrow canyon. A moment, he paused, to search
the vicinity with careful eyes, then started to cross. As he set foot upon
the ledge, a voice at the other end called sharply, "Stop."

At the word, Aaron King halted.

A moment passed. James Rutlidge stepped from behind the rocks at the other
end of the ledge. He was covering the artist with a rifle.

In a flash, the man on the trail understood. The automobile, the mirror
signals from Fairlands--it was all explained by the presence and by the
menacing attitude of the man who barred his way. The artist's hand moved
toward the weapon that hung at his hip.

"Don't do that," said the man with the rifle. "I can't murder you in cold
blood; but if you attempt to draw your gun, I'll fire."

The other stood still.

James Rutlidge spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion; "Listen to me,
King. It's useless for me to deny what brought me here. The trail you are
following leads to Sibyl Andres. You had her all summer. I've got her now.
If you hadn't stumbled onto the trail up there, I would have taken her out
of the country, and you would never have seen her again. I might have
killed you before you saw me, but I couldn't. I'm not that kind. Under the
circumstances there is no possible compromise. I'll give you a fighting
chance for your life and the girl. I'll take a fighting chance for my life
and the girl. Throw your gun out of reach and I'll leave mine here. We'll
meet on the ledge there."

James Rutlidge was no coward. Mr. Taine, also,--it will be remembered,--on
the night of his death, boas