e's got to be stopped, Doloria!"

"Jack, do this for me, please?" she begged. Her lips were very near. "If
we have to die, we will--but I can't see you go out on that prairie
alone--I simply can't!" And I grew still.

Soon I felt her hands upon my chest as she pushed herself up to look
over the logs. By this movement the blindfold was partially lifted and I
could see her--her body curved backward, as a mermaid that raises itself
at arm's length upon the shore. Her lips were parted, her eyes were
steady and level as they gazed searchingly across the sea of grass--as
many a nymph, no doubt, hiding from a company of swashbuckling gnomes,
must have peeped out to see if her glade were safe before venturing from
the wood. In another moment she had left me and run a few steps toward
the prairie, crying:

"Look! He's 'way, 'way off!"

"I can't look," I called after her. "You've put me here for life!"

Indeed, I was so completely held that the first result of my twisting
seemed only to make me lose ground. She came back, this time laughing
without control--but I knew the sign; my nerves, too, had recently been
drunk on relaxation from a strain. Tucking up her hair with a few quick
movements she held down both hands to me and, after more squirming, I
worked myself out. But our enemy had by this time disappeared.

"If that fellow's back, the others are, too," I said, with some display
of temper. "You've made the very devil of a mess!"

"I suppose I have," she looked demurely away. There was nothing of the
tigress, nothing of the willful little fighter, now.

"The consequence is," I continued, "that we have to decide between two
darned slim chances, for they'll be coming back within an hour. We can
stay here, or run for it! What do you think?" But as she remained
silent, gazing across the prairie, I kept irritably on: "If it's run, we
can't reach the forests north, south or east without being seen--and you
know what a fight in the open means against such odds. We might hide in
the grass and travel at night, but if their woodcraft's worth a hang
they'll read our trail on this kind of ground like an electric sign.
There's an Indian in their crowd, too. If we stay, the fort'll keep
them off till night--and there's always a hope of Smilax turning up.
They mightn't rush us after dark, either."

I could see that the fort was our best chance, but still I wanted her
opinion. Something about the way she stood, having no word to say