knew that she was looking for him. His
pulse quickened. He turned for a moment to see the effect of the girl's
appearance upon Gregson.

The artist's two hands had gripped his arm. They closed now until his
fingers were like cords of steel. His face was white, his lips set into
thin lines. For a breath he stood thus, while Miss Brokaw's scrutiny
traveled nearer to them. Then, suddenly, he released his hold and
darted back among the half-breeds and Indians, his face turning to
Philip's in one quick, warning appeal.

He was not a moment too soon, for scarce had he gone when Miss Brokaw
caught sight of Philip's tall form at the foot of the pier. Philip did
not see the signal which she gave him. He was staring at the line of
faces ahead of him. Two people had worked their way through that line,
and suddenly every muscle in his body became tense with excitement and
joy. They were Pierre and Jeanne!

He caught his breath at what happened then. He saw Jeanne falter for a
moment. He noticed that she was now dressed like the others about her,
and that Pierre, who stood at her shoulder, was no longer the fine
gentleman of the rock. The half-breed bent over her, as if whispering
to her, and then Jeanne ran out from those about her to Eileen, her
beautiful face flushed with joy and welcome as she reached out her arms
to the other woman. Philip saw a sudden startled look leap into Miss
Brokaw's face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She stared at
the forest girl, drew herself haughtily erect, and, with a word which
he could not hear, turned to Bludsoe and her father. For an instant
Jeanne stood as if some one had struck her a blow. Then, slowly, she
turned. The flush was gone from her face. Her beautiful mouth was
quivering, and Philip fancied that he could hear the low sobbing of her
breath. With a cry in which he uttered no name, but which was meant for
her, he sprang forward into the clear space of the pier. She saw him,
and darted back among her people. He would have followed, but Miss
Brokaw was coming to him now, her hand held out to him, and a step
behind were Brokaw and the factor.

"Philip!" she cried.

He spoke no word as he crushed her hand. The hot grip of his fingers,
the deep flush in his face, was interpreted by her as a welcome which
it did not require speech to strengthen. He shook hands with Brokaw,
and as the three followed after the factor his eyes sought vainly for
Pierre and Jeanne.

They wer