d down the canyon and the last sound of the horses' feet
stumbling over the boulders melted into the distance. Then he began
wriggling his body and twisting his arms to see if there were any
possibility of loosening the rope. It would give just enough
everywhere to allow a very slight movement of limbs and body, but it
was impossible to work this small slack from any two of the loops into
one. Wellesly pulled and worked and wriggled for a long time without
making any change in his bonds. Then he put all his attention upon his
right arm, which he could move up and down a very little. He had a
narrow hand, with thumb and wrist joints as supple as a conjurer's, so
that he could almost fold the palm upon itself and the hand upon the
arm. One turn of the rope which bound his arms to his body was just
above the wrist, and by working his hand up and down, until he rubbed
the skin off against the bark of the tree, he managed to get this band
a little looser, so that, by doubling his hand back, he could catch it
with his thumb. Then it was only a matter of a few minutes until he
had the right arm free to the elbow. On the ground at his feet lay a
match, which had dropped there when his captors rifled his pockets. If
he could only get it he might possibly burn through some of the bands
of rope. He thought that if he could get rid of the rope across his
chest he might be able to reach the match. He worked at this with his
one free hand for some time, but could neither loosen nor move it. He
picked at it until his finger-ends were bleeding, but he could make no
impression on its iron-like strands.

A breeze blew the lapel of his light coat out a little way and there
his eye caught the glint of a pin-head. He remembered that Marguerite
Delarue had pinned a rose in his buttonhole the day before he left Las
Plumas. He had been saying pretty, half-loverlike nothings to her
about her hair and her eyes, and to conceal her embarrassed pleasure
she had turned away and plucked a rosebud from the vine that clambered
over the veranda. He had begged for the flower, and she, smiling and
blushing so winsomely that he had been tempted to forget his
discretion, had pinned it in his buttonhole. It had fallen out
unnoticed and he had forgotten all about it until the welcome sight of
the pin brought the incident back to his memory. With a little
exclamation of delight he thrust his free hand upward for the pin, but
he could not reach it. Neither coul