iding. She thought of the cupboards, the
clothes-closets in her own bedroom, even her bed of spotless linen;
but none of these afforded security. At last, her ready eyes found
what her nimble mind was seeking.

"Quick--here!" she cried, turning to the huge box in the corner which
she used for holding the short firewood for her stove. "Help me unload
this wood. The box is good and big. You can get inside; I'll pile the
wood on top of you. They'll never guess."

The girl, although slight in appearance, set to with a vigour and an
agility that carried a swift contagion. The man was by her side at
once. He gave a little crackle of a laugh in his throat, and shot a
glance of admiration at her. In sixty seconds more, the box was
emptied of its contents. The man clambered inside and crouched in the
bottom of it.

It was only then that the girl noticed his very great physical
weakness.

"Oh, what shall I do?" she cried in sudden alarm. "I can't leave you
this way. You have been hurt. There is blood on your shirt. The
cowards!--they've shot you."

"Never mind me--hurry! It is nothing at all--only a scratch! Quick!"
he gasped.

"Wait a moment then!" she whispered.

The man raised himself on his elbow and watched her as she ran to the
tap in the pantry and filled a tumbler to the brim with water.

Greedy hands clutched the glass from her, and the contents were
swallowed in great gulps. The man sighed like a tired child. He smiled
slightly, showing teeth of delightful regularity.

"Water's great--isn't it?" he said childishly.

And as Eileen looked into his eyes she saw that they were young eyes;
eyes filled with tears, and eyes that were ever so blue.

"Quick! They're pretty nearly here."

Eileen commenced cautiously to pile the wood on top of him.

"Don't mind me!" he whispered huskily. "Tumble it in. I'm--I'm only a
runaway convict."

She worked fast and furiously, and had just turned away from the
innocent-looking, well-piled box of split wood in the corner, when she
heard the excited voices of hurrying men at her front door.

They tapped sharply.

She took the lamp from the kitchen table, carried it with her to the
door, shot the bolt back again and threw the door wide open.

Three men stepped into the semi-circle of light. All were tall and of
agile build.

"Poor boy!" was Eileen's first thought. "What chance has he against
these?"

One of the men carried a rifle. She knew him. Everybody in Vernock