and crumbly. He must not break off any earth to
splash into the water. There was a willow growing back some few feet
from the edge of the bank. Cautiously he pulled it down, bent it over
the water so that when he released it there would be no springing back.
Then he trusted his weight to it, with his feet sliding carefully
down the bank. He went into the water almost up to his knees, felt
the quicksand grip his feet; then, leaning forward till he reached the
plank, he pulled it toward him and lay upon it.

Without a sound one end went slowly under water and the farther end
appeared lightly braced against the overhanging willows. Very carefully
then Duane began to extricate his right foot from the sucking sand.
It seemed as if his foot was incased in solid rock. But there was a
movement upward, and he pulled with all the power he dared use. It
came slowly and at length was free. The left one he released with less
difficulty. The next few moments he put all his attention on the plank
to ascertain if his weight would sink it into the sand. The far end
slipped off the willows with a little splash and gradually settled
to rest upon the bottom. But it sank no farther, and Duane's greatest
concern was relieved. However, as it was manifestly impossible for him
to keep his head up for long he carefully crawled out upon the plank
until he could rest an arm and shoulder upon the willows.

When he looked up it was to find the night strangely luminous with
fires. There was a bonfire on the extreme end of the bluff, another
a hundred paces beyond. A great flare extended over the brake in that
direction. Duane heard a roaring on the wind, and he knew his pursuers
had fired the willows. He did not believe that would help them much.
The brake was dry enough, but too green to burn readily. And as for the
bonfires he discovered that the men, probably having run out of wood,
were keeping up the light with oil and stuff from the village. A dozen
men kept watch on the bluff scarcely fifty paces from where Duane lay
concealed by the willows. They talked, cracked jokes, sang songs, and
manifestly considered this outlaw-hunting a great lark. As long as the
bright light lasted Duane dared not move. He had the patience and the
endurance to wait for the breaking of the storm, and if that did not
come, then the early hour before dawn when the gray fog and gloom were
over the river.

Escape was now in his grasp. He felt it. And with that in his mi