to imagine you being afraid," she said. "And yet if you
were afraid I know it would be of just some little thing like that. My
father was one of the bravest men in the world, and a hundred times I have
seen him show horror at sight of a spider. If you were afraid of snakes,
why did you go up the Gampola, in Ceylon?"

"I didn't know the snakes were there," he chuckled. "I hadn't dreamed there
were a half so many snakes in the whole world as there were along that
confounded river. I slept sitting up, dressed in rubber wading boots that
came to my waist, and wore thick leather gloves. I got out of the country
at the earliest possible moment."

When they entered the edge of the Miette clearing and saw the glow of
lights ahead of them, Aldous caught the sudden upturn of his companion's
face, laughing at him in the starlight.

"Kind, thoughtful John Aldous!" she whispered, as if to herself. "How nice
of you it was to talk of such pleasant things while we were coming through
that black, dreadful swamp--with a Bill Quade waiting for us on the side!"

A low ripple of laughter broke from her lips, and he stopped dead in his
tracks, forgetting to put the automatic back in his pocket. At sight of it
the amusement died in her face. She caught his arm, and one of her hands
seized the cold steel of the pistol.

"Would he--_dare?_" she demanded.

"You can't tell," replied Aldous, putting the gun in his pocket. "And that
was a creepy sort of conversation to load you down with, wasn't it,
Ladygray? I imagine you'll catch me in all sorts of blunders like that." He
pointed ahead. "There's Mrs. Otto now. She's looking this way and wondering
with all her big heart if you ought not to be at home and in bed."

The door of the Otto home was wide open, and silhouetted in the flood of
light was the good-natured Scotchwoman. Aldous gave the whistling signal
which she and her menfolk always recognized, and hurried on with Joanne.

Before they had quite reached the tent-house, Joanne put a detaining hand
on his arm.

"I don't want you to go back to the cabin to-night," she said. "The face at
the window--was terrible. I am afraid. I don't want you to be there alone."

Her words sent a warm glow through him.

"Nothing will happen," he assured her. "Quade will not come back."

"I don't want you to return to the cabin," she persisted. "Is there no
other place where you can stay?"

"I might go down and console Stevens, and borrow a couple of