n
Dale, the man she had come to reclaim and give back to his own, would
have none of her!

"John! John!" So he had sunk so low.

"Do you know where she is?" Dale looked at his companion without noting
her pallid astonishment.

"No; I do not."

"Then--and you will let me see you back to Drew's? I must go and find
her. She shall have the truth, the whole truth, by God! to cool the
fires of that hell she has been thrust into."

Ruth covered her face with her trembling hands. Never before had she
been so near the bare, throbbing heart of things.

Oh! from what had she been saved? And yet--he was standing above her and
he was superb in his strength and power. He was holding her cloak for
her; helping to rid himself of her. The old half-dead, but vital call of
the aboriginal woman rose in her, then ebbed away at birth in a feeble
flickering jealousy.

"I do not wish you to go with me." Ruth felt timidly out for her sweet
dignity; the perquisite and recompense of exquisite refinement. "I
prefer going alone."

"It is quite dark."

"I shall not be afraid," Dale walked with her to the door. Just before
the blackness engulfed her, she turned her little, flower-like face to
him:

"John--I shall always be ready to be--your--friend if you need me."

"I shall remember. Good night."

An hour later Dale walked into the Black Cat Tavern and made a ruinous
bargain with Tate for the use of his horse and sled for an indefinite
time. "I'm going up into the woods," he explained, "I may be gone a
week, a month, I cannot tell; when I reach Camp 7, I'll send your rig
back."

"Going to join Filmer, maybe?" Tate's little eyes rolled in their
cushions of fat.

"Perhaps." And Tate took this as affirmation. Now that Joyce had
rejoined her rightful lord and master--for the story had leaked out--it
was quite natural that Gaston should take to the woods.

"It's one on 'im," Tate confided, as Brown Betty and the sled dashed by.

* * * * *

When Dale started out his purpose was very vague. If he reasoned at all
it was to the effect that Jude, after Joyce rejoined him, would seek
employment as near at hand as possible. It would be like his weak vanity
to parade his victory by going to the men who had known of his defeat.
Besides, if he had sent for Joyce, he must have been in the
neighbourhood. The heavy storm, in any case, would hinder a long
journey, and the men at Camp 7 might perhaps have news of L