.

She had not strapped on her cartridge belt and six-shooter when leaving
camp. In fact, she seldom carried the weapon, but always kept it
hanging close to her hand in the wagon. Now and then she strapped it
on when in Ragtown, for of late an element had been sifting in with
which she was not familiar. It represented the riffraff from the
cities--men who knew nothing of construction camps and were unaware of
the fact that she, because of old associations and a thorough
understanding of frontier men and frontier life, could enter a dance
hall and still be respected and absolutely safe from harm. One of
these had put an arm about her one night, and promptly had been
rewarded with a blow on the nose; for Jo did not slap when she
administered rebuke, but punched expertly and powerfully, as does a
man. Next moment the offender had been pitched bodily into the street
by as many rough hands as could lay hold of him. Only Jo's
intervention had saved the man from being kicked into insensibility.

Once again she heard the rustling, and wished that she had her gun. It
was only some animals, she told herself--a coon or a skunk, or perhaps
a wild cat or coyote prowling about to spring upon an unsuspecting
mudhen that had swam too far inshore. Still, a strange dread seized
her, and she quickened her step.

Again she heard the rustle and the sound of a soft footfall. No animal
would have produced that single, rather heavy tread. She glanced
apprehensively toward the dark trees, and it seemed to her that she saw
a black upright bulk move stealthily from one trunk to another.

Then two things happened at once. From the pines stealthily emerged
the figure of a man--there was no mistaking it. But in the same
instant there came a call from close at hand:

"Jo! Jo! Where are you?"

A feeling of vast relief came over the girl as she recognized the
caressing voice of the man from Wild-cat Hill. Instantly the figure on
her left faded; the blur of it became one with the shadows of the trees.

"Hiram!" she called gladly. "Here I am! Hurry!"

The sound of running feet answered her, and in a little while the big
form of Hiram Hooker reached her side.

Jo was breathing weakly. She could not remember of ever before having
been so near a panic or fright. What had caused the unfamiliar feeling
now was a mystery to her--unless the suggested menace in the sight of
the dark, skulking figure had been augmented by the ghostly