ven Clinch was not as swift with a rifle as
she. ... Only Stormont had been swifter -- thank God!----

She thought of Stormont -- sat there in the terrific darkness loving
him, her heart of a child tremulous with adoration.

Then the memory of Darragh pushed in and hot hatred possessed her.
Always, in her heart, she had distrusted the man.

Instinct had warned her. A spy! What evil had he worked already?
Where was her father? Evidently Quintana had escaped him at Drowned
Valley. ... Quintana was yonder by his fire, preparing the flee the
wilderness where men hunted him. ... But where was Clinch? Had this
sneak, Darragh, betrayed him? Was Clinch already in the clutch of the
State Troopers? Was he in _jail?_

At the thought the girl felt slightly faint, then a rush f angry blood
stung her face in the darkness. Except for game and excise violations
the stories they told about Clinch were lies.

He had nothing to fear, nothing to be ashamed of. Harrod had driven him
to lawlessness; the Government took away what was left him to make a
living. He had to live. What if he did break laws made by millionaire
and fanatic! What of it? He had her love and her respect -- and her
deep, deep pity. And these were enough for any girl to fight for.

Dawn spread a silvery light above the pines, but Quintana's fire still
reddened the tree trunks; and she could hear him feeding it at
intervals.

Finally she saw him. He came out on the edge of the ruddy ring of light
and stood peering around at the woods where already a vague greyness was
revealing nearer trees.

When, finally, he turned his back and looked at his fire, Eve rose and
stood between the two big pines. Behind one of them she placed her
rifle.

It was growing lighter in the woods. She could see Quintana in the fire
ring and outside, -- saw him go to the spring rivulet, lie flat, drink,
then, on his knees, wash face and hands in the icy water.

It became plain to her that he was nearly ready to depart. She watched
him preparing. And now she could see him plainly, and knew him to be
Quintana and no other.

He had a light basket pack. He put some articles into it, stretched
himself and yawned, pulled on his hat, hoisted the pack and fastened it
to his back, stood staring at the fire for a long time; then, with a
sudden upward look at the zenith where a slight flush stained a cloud,
he picked up his rifle.

At that moment Eve called to him in a clear