"

A second time a fury of blood leapt into her face and her lashes
shadowed a pair of blazing stars.

"He--that red brute--caught me in the dark two weeks ago, and held me
there--and kissed me!" She fairly panted at him, springing to her feet
and standing before him. "I would have screamed, but it was in the
house, and Tara couldn't have come to me. I scratched him, and fought,
but he bent my head back until it hurt. He tried it again the day he
gave my uncle the gold, but I struck him with a stick, and got away. Oh,
I _hate_ him! And he knows it. And my uncle cursed me for striking him!
And that's why ... I'm running away."

"I understand," said David, rising and smiling at her confidently, while
in his veins his blood was running like little streams of fire. "Don't
you believe, now, all that I've told you about the picture? How it tried
so hard to talk to me, and tell me to hurry? It got me here just about
in time, didn't it? It'll be a great joke on Brokaw, little girl. And
your uncle Hauck. A great joke, eh?" He laughed. He felt like laughing,
even as his blood pounded through him at fever heat. "You're a little
brick, Marge--you and your bear!"

It was the first time he had thought of the bear since Marge had
detached herself from the big beast to come to him, and as he looked in
its direction he gave a startled exclamation.

Baree and the grizzly had been measuring each other for some time. To
Baree this was the most amazing experience in all his life, and
flattened out between the two rocks he was at a loss to comprehend why
his master did not either run or shoot. He wanted to jump out, if his
master showed fight, and leap straight at that ugly monster, or he
wanted to run away as fast as his legs would carry him. He was shivering
in indecision, waiting a signal from David to do either one or the
other. And Tara was now moving slowly toward the dog! His huge head was
hung low, swinging slightly from side to side in a most terrifying way;
his great jaws were agape, and the nearer he came to Baree the smaller
the dog seemed to grow between the rocks. At David's sudden cry the girl
had turned, and he was amazed to hear her laughter, clear and sweet as a
bell. It was funny, that picture of the dog and the bear, if one was in
the mood to see the humour of it!

"Tara won't hurt him," she hurried to say, seeing David's uneasiness.
"He loves dogs. He wants to play with ... what is his name?"

"Baree. And mine is