leave
to-morrow morning after service--for Myrtle."

* * * * *

Kate locked the door of the Meeting House behind them. Then she held
out her hand. Fyles took it and pressed it tenderly.

"Why," he asked gently, almost humbly, "have you so deliberately
avoided me lately?"

The woman stroked Peter's brown head as it was pushed forward beside
the man's shoulder.

"Why?" she echoed. Then she smiled up into the man's face. "Because we
are--antagonists--until after Monday. Good-bye."

CHAPTER XXXII

TREACHERY

On his westward journey to camp Stanley Fyles did a good deal of
thinking. Generally speaking he was of that practical turn which has
no time for indulgence in the luxury of visions, and signs. Long
experience had made him almost severe in his practice.

But, as he rode along pondering upon the few pleasant moments spent in
Kate's presence, his imagination slowly began to stir, and he found
himself wondering; wondering, at first, at her credulity, and,
presently, wondering if it were really possible that an old curse,
uttered in the height of impotent human passion, could, by any occult
process, possess a real effect.

He definitely and promptly denied it. He told himself more. He
believed that only women, highly emotional women, or creatures of
weaker intellect, could possibly put faith in such things. Kate
belonged to neither of these sections of her sex. Then how did this
strange belief come in a woman so keenly sensible, so full of
practical courage?

Maybe it was the result of living so closely in touch with the soil.
Maybe the narrow life of such a village as Rocky Springs had had its
effect.

However, her belief, so strong, so passionate, had left an
uncomfortable effect upon him. It was absurd, of course, but somehow
he wished he had not heard the story of the old pine. At least not
till after Monday. Kate had said they were to fell that tree at dawn.
It was certainly a curious coincidence that they should have selected,
as Kate had said, practically Monday night. The night of the
whisky-running.

He smiled. However, the omen was surely in favor of his success.
According to the legend the felling of the tree meant the end of crime
in the valley, and the end of crime meant his----But blood would flow.
Death. Whose blood? Whose--death?

His smile died out.

In these contingencies it meant a--hand to hand conflict. It
meant----Who's death did she dread?