no mistaking the figure, even in that dim light. Did not
everybody know that head, bent so deliberately on one side? The
hunched shoulders? The drawn-up hip? It was Elia, and, in the
darkness, a fierce grin of satisfaction lit the murderer's face. He
realized that the snarer must have heard his approach, and, believing
it to be a jack-rabbit, had waited to make sure. The thought tickled
his cruel senses, and he wanted to laugh aloud. But he refrained, and,
instead, moved stealthily forward.

The bush hid him while he had a good view of his victim through its
upper branches. And he calculated that if the boy remained standing
where he was, with a little care he could approach to within a yard or
two of him without being discovered. So he moved forward, circling
the bush without any sound. It was wonderful how his training as a
trapper had taught him the science of silent woodcraft.

As he reached the limits of his shelter he dropped upon his stomach
and began to wriggle through the grass. It pleased him to do this. It
gave him a sense of delight at the thought of the horrible awakening
the cowardly boy was presently to receive.

A yard--two yards, he slid through the grass. Three. One more, and he
would be near enough for his purpose. Suddenly and silently he stood
erect, like a figure rising out of the ground. He was directly in
front of the boy, and within arm's length of him. He stood thus for a
second that his victim might realize his identity thoroughly, and
fully digest the meaning of the sudden apparition.

He had full satisfaction. Elia recognized him and stood petrified with
terror. So awful to him was the meaning of that silent figure that he
had not even the power to cry out. He shook convulsively and stood
waiting.

The murderer raised one hand slowly and reached out toward the boy.
His hand touched his clothing, and moved up to his throat. The
powerful fingers came into contact with the soft flesh, and closed
upon it. Then it was that the moment of paralysis passed. The boy fell
back with a terrible cry.

But Will followed him up, and again his hand reached his throat. He
grasped it, and tightened his fingers upon it. A gurgling cry of
abject terror was the response. Again Will's hand released its hold.
But now he seized one of the boy's outstretched arms, and, with a
sudden movement, twisted it behind his back so hard that a third cry,
this time of pain alone, was wrung from the terrified lad.

He