y at intervals. At the end of that time, he had demolished it
sufficiently to make room for a man to crawl through. To break it down
completely would have taken too much precious time.

"It--is--don'!" he panted at length. "Now we go 'way soon. First I try
him. If still you hav' the coat an' 'at, M'sieu' Tom, put him on; but
'urry."

"I've already done so," assured Tom with fervor. "It's lucky for me that
lunatic didn't see fit to hide my clothes."

Jean pricked up his ears at the word "lunatic," but said nothing.
"Careful," he cautioned solicitously, as Tom, essaying to make his exit
from the hut, drew back, uttering a faint moan of pain. "It is for me to
'elp you." Secretly marveling at Tom's light weight, Jean lifted him in
his arms. Bidding him straighten his legs, Jean called to David to stand
by to receive his burden. Then the old hunter passed him through the
opening to David as though Tom had been a bag of meal. Hastily
scrambling through after him, Jean was just in time to witness the
affecting meeting which took place between the two young men. Tom's
first words after greeting David were: "Tell me quickly, how are Grace
and Aunt Rose?" And in the darkness no one saw the flood of emotion that
mastered Tom Gray as he learned the deep, abiding belief of his loved
ones that he would return.

Though the night lay black around them, the rain had ceased falling.
Directing the rays of his searchlight on Tom, David gave a horrified
gasp at the sight of his chum's pale, emaciated features.

"I don't look much like myself, do I?" asked the prisoner with a short
laugh. "The fact is, I don't know just how I do look, but I guess it's
pretty bad."

"But how in the world did you ever come to be----" began David.

"No time for talk now," broke in Jean. "We mus' 'urry, an' get way off
from here. You can walk a little, M'sieu' Tom? Not far? We 'elp you.
There is easy way out of valley."

Yet it was not an easy matter, even with the combined force of the two
men, to conduct Tom Gray out of the valley in which he had spent so many
weary, hopeless weeks. His left leg, which had been broken above the
knee, was far from strong. It was only within the past week that he had
been able to limp painfully about the narrow confines of his jail. Once
outdoors, the darkness of the night and the roughness of treacherous,
rock-strewn ground made progress barely possible. Neither did Jean nor
David dare to undertake carrying him. Burden