l
kill you_!"

She understood. She understood only too well. She was not only housed
with a murderer; she was housed with a maniac. She sensed, also, why
he had come to this mountain shack so boldly. In his dementia he knew
no better. And she was alone with him, unarmed now.

"I'll keep it down," she whispered, watching his face out of
fear-distended eyes.

The wind blew one of the rotten blankets inward. Thereby she knew
that the window-aperture on the south wall contained no sash. He
must have removed it to provide means of escape in case he were
attacked from the east door. He must have climbed out that window
when she came around the shack; that is how he had felled her from
behind.

He stepped backward now until he felt the edge of the bench touch
his calves. Then he sank down, one arm stretched along the table's
rim, the hand clutching the revolver.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Cora McB----" She stopped--she recalled in a flash the part her
husband had played in his former capture and trial. "I'm Cora Allen,"
she corrected. Then she waited, her wits in chaos. She was fighting
desperately to bring order out of that chaos.

"What you doin' up here?"

"I started for Millington, over the mountain. I lost my way."

"Why didn't you go by the road?"

"It's further."

"That's a lie! It ain't. And don't lie to me, or I'll kill you!"

"Who are you?" she heard herself asking. "And why are you acting
this way with me?"

The man leaned suddenly forward.

"You mean to tell me you don't know?"

"A lumberjack, maybe, who's lost his way like myself?"

His expression changed abruptly.

"What you luggin' _this_ for?" He indicated the revolver.

"For protection."

"From what?"

"Wild things."

"There ain't no wild things in these mountains this time o' year;
they're snowed up, and you know it."

"I just felt safer to have it along."

"To protect you from men-folks, maybe?"

"There are no men in these mountains I'm afraid of!" She made the
declaration with pathetic bravado.

His eyes narrowed.

"I think I better kill you," he decided. "You've seen me; you'll
tell you seen me. Why shouldn't I kill you? You'd only tell."

"Why? What have I done to you?" she managed to stammer. "Why should
you object to being seen?"

It was an unfortunate demand. He sprang up with a snarl. Pointing
the revolver from his hip, he drew back the hammer.

"_Don't_!" she shrieked. "Are you crazy? Don't you know h