had she been upon
the object of her visit. She reproached herself for staying so late.
What would her father say? And how uneasy he would be.

Quickly she hurried down the trail, fearful lest she should come in
contact with any of the miners. Turning up the little path leading to
her cabin, she gave a sigh of relief. No one would be there, as it was
out of the regular thoroughfare. Just at this moment, when she felt
quite secure, a figure loomed up suddenly before her and barred the way.

With a cry of mingled surprise and fear, Constance started back as she
recognized Pritchen's burly form, and heard his sneering laugh.

"Frightened, are you?" he asked. "I must be a monster."

"What do you mean?" Constance demanded, summoning what courage she
could. "How dare you stop me here in this lonely place!"

"Oh, just out for a stroll and happened to pass this way."

"Well, let me past, please."

"Yes, when I get ready. T'ain't often I have the pleasure of meeting
such a fine, high-spirited lady in my nightly meditations."

"Will you let me pass?"

"You seem to be in a hurry."

"I am. My father is waiting for me, and will be anxious."

"Ha, ha, that's a good one. Now, you wouldn't be a bit uneasy about
your dad if I happened to be the parson, would you?"

Constance was getting desperate, and not wishing to bandy words with
the villain, made an effort to go by him.

"Oh, no, you don't do that," and an oath leaped from his vile mouth.

"Let me go by, I tell you."

"Yes, when I get what I want."

"Well, what is it? Tell me, quick."

"Visiting the old chief, eh?"

"Yes."

"Any success?"

"What do you mean?"

"Get the picture?"

"What picture? And why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know, well enough. The one the old devil has."

"He has my brother's picture, which I believe you gave him. I didn't
get it, however, and maybe you'll tell me where you got it."

"Hell if I'll tell you, and what's more, I believe you've got it, and I
want it."

"But I tell you I didn't get it."

"Oh, that's a fine story. Didn't get it! But I believe you did, and I
want it."

Constance looked around, as if seeking some avenue of escape. What was
she to do? Alone there with such a villain! Should she cry for help?

Pritchen seemed to read her thoughts.

"It's no use to run or make a fuss," he growled. "You can't get clear
of me, and you'll soon be choked off if you start to do any croaking.
You might as we