there was the strong
probability that, on reaching the spot where the canoe had been entered
and the bag of gold left on the bank, the pursuers would be partially
satisfied as well as baffled, and would return home.

On reaching a waterfall, therefore, where the navigable part of the
river ended and its broken course through Bevan's Gully began, he landed
without any show of haste, drew the canoe up on the bank, where he left
it concealed among bushes, and began quietly to descend by a narrow
footpath with which he had been long familiar.

Up to that point the unhappy youth had entertained no definite idea as
to why he was hurrying towards the hut of Paul Bevan, or what he meant
to say for himself on reaching it. But towards noon, as he drew near to
it, the thought of Betty in her innocence and purity oppressed him. She
rose before his mind's eye like a reproving angel.

How could he ever face her with the dark stain of a mean theft upon his
soul? How could he find courage to confess his guilt to her? or,
supposing that he did not confess it, how could he forge the tissue of
lies that would be necessary to account for his sudden appearance, and
in such guise--bloodstained, wounded, haggard, and worn out with fatigue
and hunger? Such thoughts now drove him to the verge of despair. Even
if Betty were to refrain from putting awkward questions, there was no
chance whatever of Paul Bevan being so considerate. Was he then to
attempt to deceive them, or was he to reveal all? He shrank from
answering the question, for he believed that Bevan was an honest man,
and feared that he would have nothing further to do with him when he
learned that he had become a common thief. A thief! How the idea
burned into his heart, now that the influence of strong drink no longer
warped his judgment!

"Has it _really_ come to this?" he muttered, gloomily. Then, as he came
suddenly in sight of Bevan's hut, he exclaimed more cheerfully, "Come,
I'll make a clean breast of it."

Paul Bevan had pitched his hut on the top of a steep rocky mound, the
front of which almost overhung a precipice that descended into a deep
gully, where the tormented river fell into a black and gurgling pool.
Behind the hut flowed a streamlet, which being divided by the mound into
a fork, ran on either side of it in two deep channels, so that the hut
could only be reached by a plank bridge thrown across the lower or
western fork. The forked streamlet tumbled