bush he had been so careful to
place there.

Then, suddenly a moan from beneath his very feet fell upon his ear,
causing him to fairly gasp for breath.

"Thank God! I have found it!" he cried.

In an instant he had thrown off his coat, thin though it was, and set to
work as he had never worked in all his life before--against time.

He had thrown in the earth loosely, taking care to leave the head
exposed, for he felt as sure as he did of his own existence that life
was not yet extinct in the body of the young girl for whom he was forced
to prepare that grave at the point of a revolver in the hands of the two
desperate strangers.

He had taken his own life in his hands when he had announced the work
finished satisfactorily, for had the man stepped from the coach to
examine the work he would have found the deep hole which left the head
uncovered.

The cold winds and the drifting snow blew into the old grave digger's
face, but he worked on with desperate zeal, realizing that another life
might depend upon the swiftness of his rescue.

At last, after what seemed to him an eternity of time, he reached the
body, and quickly lifted it from its resting place.

Half an hour later he reached his own humble cottage home, bearing the
slender burden in his strong arms.

His good wife had waited up for him. She could never sleep when Adam was
away from home.

She heard his footstep on the crunching snow and hastened to open the
door for him, starting back with a cry of great surprise as she caught
sight of the figure in his arms.

"Is it some neighbor's little girl lost in the storm, Adam?" she cried,
clasping her hands together in affright.

"Don't ask any questions now, Mary," he exclaimed, delivering the burden
into her willing, motherly arms, and sinking down into the nearest
chair, thoroughly exhausted. "I'll tell you all about it later, when I
get my breath and my nerves are settled. Do everything you can to revive
the poor young creature. She is freezing to death."

As old Adam's kindly wife threw back the dark cloak which had enveloped
the fair young face and form, an exclamation of surprise broke from her
wondering lips.

"She is a stranger hereabouts," she observed, but she wisely obeyed her
husband's injunctions, making no further remark, knowing she would hear
all about it in good time.

In less time than it takes to tell it, the beautiful young stranger was
put to bed in the little spare room up unde