With all his strength he strove to rend asunder the heavy steel chain,
but it resisted his every effort.

"God in heaven! am I to die here like a rat in a trap?" he groaned, the
veins standing out like knotted whipcord on his forehead, the
perspiration pouring down his face like rain.

For some moments there was a strange, unaccountable silence in the outer
room.

Lester paused in his efforts to wrench the iron bands asunder which
bound his wrists, wondering what that ominous silence meant.

The suspense was terrible, yet each moment meant that much of a respite
from the horrible fate which awaited him.

What could Halloran be doing? Surely he had not abandoned his intentions
to set fire to the cabin?

It was almost too good to be true. And yet that awful uncertainty was
almost unbearable.

In the outer room Halloran sat quietly thinking over his plans, match in
hand, telling himself that he had better perfect them then than wait
until he was journeying toward the railway station.

He would take the first train bound for New York, seek Kendale at once,
and have an understanding with him before he would disclose to him the
fact that Lester Armstrong was effectually out of his way.

"Yes, that is the only course to pursue," muttered Halloran, and
springing to his feet, he struck half of the matches in his package at
once, and lighted the pile heaped in the center of the cabin floor.

CHAPTER XXVII.

HALLORAN MEETS WITH HIS REWARD.

In an instant after the match had been applied a fiery tongue of flame
leaped to the ceiling, lighting the interior of the cabin with a
blinding glare of red light.

Seizing his hat, Halloran dashed from the place and down the road, never
pausing until he had reached the fork of the roads. Then he stopped for
breath and looked back over his shoulder.

A high ridge of ground intervened, completely hiding the doomed place
from his view.

He did not even behold the column of fire and smoke, as he had
anticipated.

"Those old boards are so damp that it will probably take some time to
ignite them, and there's no use waiting to see that," he muttered. "I
will be well on my way to the railway station by that time."

He redoubled his speed to get as far away from the scene as possible,
for, villain though he was, this was his first actual crime, and his
conscience troubled him a little.

Another mile or more he traversed through the heavy snow; then he
suddenly became c