lidly into the shack.

Stonor, searching among Imbrie's things, was much reassured to find a
tracking-line. This, added to his own line, would give him six hundred
feet of rope, which he judged ample for his purpose. He spliced the two
while the meal was preparing.

"What's that for?" Clare asked.

"To help us up-stream."

As soon as he had eaten he went back to the beach. His movements here
were invisible to those in the shack. He carried the remaining
bark-canoe on his back down the beach to a point about a hundred and
fifty yards above the log-jam. This was to be his point of departure. He
took a fresh survey of the rapids, and went over and over in his mind
the course he meant to take.

After cutting off several short lengths that he required for various
purposes, Stonor fastened the end of the line to a tree on the edge of
the bank; the other end he made fast to the stern of the canoe--not to
the point of the stern, but to the stern-thwart where it joined the
gunwale. This was designed to hold the canoe at an angle against the
current that would keep her out in the stream. The slack of the line was
coiled neatly on the beach.

With one of the short lengths Stonor then made an offset from this line
near where it was fastened to the thwart, and passed it around his own
body under the arms. Thus, if the canoe smashed on the rocks or
swamped, by cutting the line at the thwart the strain would be
transferred to Stonor's body, and the canoe could be left to its fate.
Another short length with a loop at the end was made fast at the other
end of the thwart. This was for the purpose of making fast to the
log-jam while Stonor worked to free the body. A third piece of line he
carried around his neck. This was to secure the body.

During the course of these preparations Mary joined him. She reported
that Clare was fast asleep. Stonor made a little prayer that she might
not awaken till this business was over.

He explained to Mary what he was about, and showed her her part. She
listened sullenly, but, seeing that his mind was made up, shrugged at
the uselessness of opposing his will. Mary was to pay out the rope
according to certain instructions, and afterwards to haul him in.

Finally, after reassuring himself of the security of all his knots, he
divested himself of hat, tunic, and boots and stepped into the canoe. He
shook hands with Mary, took his knife between his teeth, and pushed off.
He made as much as he coul