ned as
if bathed in enamel. And the moon came on, and mellow floods of light
played in the valleys and plains, and danced over the forest-tops, and
in voice-less and soundless miracle called upon all living things to
look upon the glory of God. In his soul Jolly Roger McKay felt the urge
and the call of that voiceless Master Power, and through his lips came
an unconscious whisper of prayer--of gratitude.

And he watched the light in Jed Hawkins' cabin, and strained his ears to
hear a sound of footsteps coming through the moonlight.

But there was no change. The light did not move. A door did not open or
close. There was no sound, except the growing whisper of the wind, the
call of a night bird, and the howl of the old gray wolf that always
cried out to the moon from the tangled depths of Indian Tom's swamp.

A thrill of nervousness swept through Jolly Roger. He waited half an
hour, three-quarters, an hour--after the moon had risen. And Nada
did not come. The nervousness grew in him, and he moved out into
the moon-glow, and slowly and watchfully followed the edge of the
rock-shadows until he came to the fringe of cedars and spruce behind
the cabin. Peter, careful not to snap a twig under his paws, followed
closely. They came to the cabin, and there--very distinctly--Jolly Roger
McKay heard the low moaning of a voice.

He edged his way to the window, and looked in.

Crouched beside a chair in the middle of the floor was Jed Hawkins's
woman. She was moaning, and her thin body was rocking back and forth,
and with her hands clasped at her bony breast she was staring at the
open door. With a shock Jolly Roger saw that except for the strangely
crying old woman the cabin was empty. Sudden fear chilled his blood--a
fear that scarcely took form before he was at the door, and in the
cabin. The woman's eyes were red and wild as she stared at him, and she
stopped her moaning, and her hands unclasped. Jolly Roger went nearer
and bent over her and shivered at the half-mad terror he saw in her
face.

"Where is Nada?" he demanded. "Tell me--where is she?"

"Gone, gone, gone," crooned the woman, clutching her hands at her breast
again. "Jed has taken her--taken her to Mooney's shack, over near the
railroad. Oh, my God!--I tried to keep her, but I couldn't. He dragged
her away, and tonight he's sellin' her to Mooney--the devil--the black
brute--the tie-cutter--"

She choked, and began rocking herself back and forth, and the moani