esumed. "But as that
is about the only thing which will strike terror into the hearts of
human devils, of which you are the chief, it must be done. It may
teach others to keep clear of Glen West after this."

With a howl Curly dropped upon his knees. His teeth chattered, and his
body trembled violently. He stretched out his hands in a beseeching
manner.

"For God's sake, don't kill me!" he yelled. "Let me go, an' I swear
I'll never come near this place again."

"H'm, you are too late with your prayers, Curly. It's nothing less
than the Ordeal for you now, so stop your yelps. If you don't of your
own accord, we shall be forced to do something to make you."

He then turned to Sconda and gave a brief order in the Indian tongue.
The next instant Curly was hurried out of the house, and down the trail
leading to the village.

Weston sat for a while in his room after the others had gone. The grim
expression had now left his face, and his eyes twinkled, while a smile
lurked about the corners of his mouth. Anyone watching would have
pronounced him the most hardened villain in existence. How could a man
smile who had just sentenced a fellow creature to death? This man's
heart must be hard and cold as an iceberg. But Weston's thoughts were
evidently not unpleasant, and when he at length picked up his hat and
left the house he was in an excellent frame of mind. Could Glen have
seen him then she would have wondered more than ever.

The light of day had not yet faded from the land, although the high
ridge of the Golden Crest placed the village in deep shadows. The sky
was heavy with big clouds, presaging a storm. The wind was steadily
increasing, and Weston knew that the rain would shortly be upon them.

He continued on his way down through the village, past the store and
the last house in the place until he came to the edge of a thicket of
firs and jack-pines. Here he paused and listened intently, but no
sound could he hear. Advancing fifty yards more, he left the main
thoroughfare and entered upon a narrow trail leading down toward the
lake. The trees were thicker here, and the ground suddenly sloped to a
valley a short distance ahead. Weston needed no light to guide him,
and he walked with the assurance of one well acquainted with his
surroundings.

In a few minutes a light gleamed through the trees, and a smile of
satisfaction overspread Weston's face. He knew that the natives were
obeying orders and