ave been very easy to have mistaken Garry Devereau for the
man whose clothes he wore. And while they waited, strained and tense,
facing each other, a lone sapling between them and the eastern fringe
of the clearing swung frantically earthward as if stricken by an
invisible hand, and then thrashed upright again. A fragment of green
bark flew aloft. They heard the deflected bullet go whining away.
Then the tardy bark of a rifle.

It was instant-quick, and yet little quicker than the expression that
sped over Garry's features. He turned and faced the thicket from which
the report had come; he lifted his chin and opened his arms and laughed
aloud. The second time that day Steve reached out and jerked him
viciously from his feet. This time the bullet missed the sapling.
They felt the air shock of its passage.

There was nothing deliberate nor premeditated in the outburst which
Steve loosed upon the man who had gone to his knees beneath the grip of
his hands.

"You fool!" he grated. "You crazy-brained madman!"

Garry rose and made as if to dust his knees.

"Poor work," he criticised, easily. "Too hurried--the first shot.
There should have been no excuse for a second."

With angry roughness Steve thrust him back into the deeper shadow.

"Wait here!" he commanded.

But Garry was only a step behind him when, a moment later, the former
leaned over the spot where that invisible marksman had stood. There
were deep imprints in the forest mold--an empty shell upon the leaves.
And by that time Steve had regained his grave composure.

"Some idiot of a hunter," he ventured quietly, when he had straightened
from a glance at those marks. "One of those enthusiasts who shoot in
haste at any rustle in the brush, and investigate at leisure."

Momentarily the intimacy which had existed in other days between them
was restored. Garry's answer held no more of antagonism than had
Steve's calm comment. He tried to follow the tracks that led into the
deeper timber. It was too dark to follow far.

"This is a hunter in a hurry, then," he remarked. "Too much of a
hurry, even, to investigate."

"Hungry, and late for supper," suggested Steve. "And we'll be late,
ourselves, unless we travel along."

He faced about and started straight across the clearing, and he
maintained the lead in spite of Garry's effort to supplant him. Before
they reached the door of the cabin reserve that amounted to actual
coolness once more cloaked