, my own included, but is not greatly
travelled; the main trail is farther east."

She walked to the edge of the bridge, and permitted him to assist her
down the steep bank. There was something of reserve about her manner,
which prevented Westcott from feeling altogether at ease. In his own
mind he began once more to question her purpose, to doubt the sincerity
of her intentions. She appeared different from the frankly outspoken
girl of the night before. Neither broke the silence between them until
they reached the flat boulder and had found seats in the shelter of
overhanging trees. She sat a moment, her eyes on the water, her cheeks
shadowed by the wide brim of her hat, and Westcott noted the almost
perfect contour of her face silhouetted against the green leaves. She
turned toward him questioningly.

"I was very rude," she said, "but you will forgive me when I explain
the cause. I had to act as I did or else lose my hold entirely on that
man--you understand?"

"I do not need to understand," he answered gallantly. "It is enough
that you say so."

"No, it is not enough. I value your friendship, Mr. Westcott, and I
need your advice. I find myself confronting a very complicated case
under unfamiliar conditions. I hardly know what to do."

"You may feel confidence in me."

"Oh, I do; indeed, you cannot realise how thoroughly I trust you," and
impulsively she touched his hand with her own. "That is why I wrote
you to meet me here--so I could tell you the whole story."

He waited, his eyes on her face.

"I received my letter this morning--the letter I told you I expected,
containing my instructions. They--they relate to this man Ned Beaton
and the woman he expects on this train."

"Your instructions?" he echoed doubtfully. "You mean you have been
sent after these people on some criminal matter? You are a detective?"

There must have been a tone of distrust to his voice, for she turned
and faced him defiantly.

"No; not that. Listen: I am a newspaperwoman, a special writer on the
New York _Star_." She paused, her cheeks flushing with nervousness.
"It--it was very strange that I met you first of all, for--for it seems
that the case is of personal interest to you."

"To me! Why, that is hardly likely, if it originated in New York."

"It did"--she drew in a sharp breath--"for it originated in the murder
of Frederick Cavendish."

"The murder of Cavendish! He has been killed?"

"Yes; at least