ark alongside a thick balsam
that had fallen into the river.

The singing voice approached rapidly. Five minutes later a long company
canoe floated down out of the gloom. It passed so near that Philip
could see the picturesque figure in the stern paddling and singing. In
the bow kneeled an Indian working in stoic silence. Between them, in
the body of the canoe, sat two men whom he knew at a glance were white
men. The strangers and their craft slipped by with the quickness of a
shadow.

Again Philip heard movements above him, and once more he took up the
pursuit. He wondered why Jeanne had not called for help when the
company canoe passed. If she was not hurt or unconscious, her captors
had been forced to hold a handkerchief or a brutal hand over her mouth,
perhaps at her throat! His blood grew hot with rage at the thought.

For three-quarters of an hour longer the swift paddling up-stream
continued without interruption. Then the river widened into a small
lake, and Philip was compelled to hold back until the two canoes, which
he could see clearly now, had passed over the exposed area.

By the time he dared to follow, Jeanne's captors were a quarter of a
mile ahead of him. He no longer heard their paddles when he entered the
stream at the upper end of the lake, and he bent to his work with
greater energy and less caution. Five minutes--ten minutes passed, and
he saw nothing, heard nothing. His strokes grew more powerful and the
canoe shot through the water with the swift cleavage of a knife. A
perspiration began to gather on his face, and a sudden chilling fear
entered him. Another five minutes and he stopped. The river swept out
ahead of him, broad and clear, for a quarter of a mile. There was no
sign of the canoes!

For a few moments he remained motionless, drifting back with the slow
current of the stream, stunned by the thought that he had allowed
Jeanne's captors to escape him. Had they heard him and dropped in to
shore to let him pass? He swung his canoe about and headed down-stream.
In that case he could not miss them, if he used caution. But if they
had turned into some creek hidden in the gloom--were even now picking
their way through a secret channel that led back from the river--

A groan burst from his lips as he thought of Jeanne. In that half mile
of river he could surely find where the canoes had gone, but it might
be too late. He went down in mid-stream, searching the shadows of both
shores. His he