en
possessed of the masting-business, and they vied with one another in
telling what they knew.

The arrival of the Loyalists furnished them with a new subject of
conversation. But it was the abduction of Colonel Sterling's daughter
which stirred them most intensely. Many of them had daughters of their
own, and they sympathised with the bereaved colonel. That the slashers
were responsible for the cowardly deed, they had not the slightest
doubt, and they often wondered what had become of the girl.

The short afternoon was wearing away, with the storm showing no sign of
abatement. The snow piled up around the cabin, and so blocked up the
little windows that the men sitting at the table were compelled to
light several dip-candles in order to see the cards. Only the two men
who attended the oxen in the near-by stable ventured outside, and their
report of the storm made their comrades glad that they could remain
indoors on such a day.

The fire had just been replenished, and the flames were roaring merrily
up the big chimney, when the door was thrown unceremoniously open, and
Dane Norwood staggered into the room, bearing in his arms the limp form
of Jean Sterling. Amazed beyond words, the men sprang to their feet,
and quickly relieved the courier of his burden just as he reeled and
sank in a helpless heap upon the rough floor.

"It's Dane Norwood!" one of the men gasped, bending over the prostrate
form. "What in the name of heaven has happened?"

Before any one could reply Jean was on her feet, and started to cross
the room. But she tottered through weakness, and was forced to place
her hands upon the table for support.

"I am Colonel Sterling's daughter," she explained to the staring
mast-cutters, "and Dane Norwood saved my life. Help him, quick."

At these words several men hurried forward, lifted Dane from the floor,
and laid him gently in one of the bunks arranged along the walls. They
then bathed his face with water, and in a short time they had the
satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes and look around. In another
minute Jean was kneeling by his side, with the men standing silently
near. Dane smiled as he saw the girl, and reached out his hand which
she at once clasped in hers.

"What a baby I am," he said. "I didn't expect to go under this way.
There must be something wrong with me."

"Don't say that," Jean remonstrated. "No other man could have done
what you did. It was wonderful."

"I w