it, either."

"Look for yourself, then," and Pritchen stepped back to make room for
the missionary.

Keith stooped down and examined it carefully. He tried the lid, but it
was fastened. He placed his hand to his forehead and tried to think.

"Maybe you locked it and put the key in your pocket," suggested one.

Keith ran his hands through every pocket, and into each corner, but all
in vain; the key was nowhere to be found.

"Very strange," muttered Pritchen. "A chest in the cabin, a strong one
at that--locked, and the owner unable to find the key! What do you
keep in such a precious box?"

Keith heard him, but heeded not. He was trying to think. Yes, he had
placed the picture there before he left the building, and closed the
lid down without turning the key. He was sure of that.

He was aroused from his reverie by Pritchen asking for an axe.

"There," and Keith pointed to a corner of the room.

At first an attempt was made to pry up the cover, by forcing the axe
under the edge, but in this they failed.

"Let's smash the d-- thing!" cried Pritchen. "We can't waste the whole
night here, and we must see into this box."

Suiting the action to the word, he drove the blade into the smooth lid,
and in a short time the cover was in splinters.

In silence Keith beheld the work of destruction. What could he do?
Every blow seemed to strike at his own heart, telling him of impending
trouble.

"Hello! what's this? A woman's face! Well, I'll be damned! Look,
boys," and Pritchen pointed to the sketch lying in full view.

The weak candle light fell tremblingly upon the fair face as Perdue
bent over the box to examine the picture more closely. Then he seized
it roughly in his hand, and held it up for a better inspection. It was
not the little laugh given by one of the men which stirred Keith so
intensely, but the wink he caught Pritchen tipping to Perdue. It was
that quick telegraphic message, the base innuendo which stung and
lashed him more than a thousand words. The hot blood, recoiling at the
silent insult, surged back to the body's secret depths, leaving the
face as white as drifted snow. Keith's eyes flashed danger as he
reached out one long tense arm.

"Give that to me," he demanded, restraining himself with a great
effort. "It has nothing to do with your business here."

"It's interesting, though," replied Perdue.

"Innocent and pure as the flower of the field," sneered Pritchen,
quoting the