e
the madness of the storm, when he felt something strike sharply on the
log behind him. He knew it was the impact of a pike pole, and he
wondered, with a kind of scornful disgust, what Pichot could be
wanting of him now. He felt the log being dragged backwards, then held
close against the smooth wall of the pot. A moment more and his bonds
were being cut--but laboriously, as if with a small knife and by weak
hands. Then he caught sight of the hands, which were little and brown
and rough, and realized, with a great burst of wonder and tenderness,
that old Baisley's "Sis," by some miracle of miracles, had come to his
rescue. In a few seconds the ropes fell apart, and he lifted himself,
to see the child stooping down with anxious adoration in her eyes.

"Sis!" he cried. "You!"

"Oh, Mr. Henderson, come quick!" she panted. "They may git back any
minit." And clutching him by the shoulder, she tried to pull him up by
main strength. But Henderson needed no urging. Life, with the return
of hope, had surged back into nerve and muscle; and in hardly more
time than it takes to tell it, the two had clambered side by side to
the rim of the pot and darted into the covert of the tossing trees.

No sooner were they in hiding than Henderson remembered his rifle and
slipped back to get it His enemies had not discovered it. It had
fallen into the moss, but the well-oiled, perfect-fitting chamber had
kept its cartridges dry. With that weapon in his hands Henderson felt
himself once more master of the situation. Weariness and apprehension
together slipped from him, and one purpose took complete possession of
him. He would settle with Red Pichot right there, on the spot where he
had been taught the terrible lesson of fear. He felt that he could not
really feel himself a man again unless he could settle the whole score
before the sun of that day should set.

The rain and wind were diminishing now; the lightning was a mere
shuddering gleam over the hill-tops beyond the river; and the thunder
no longer made itself heard above the trampling of the falls.
Henderson's plans were soon laid. Then he turned to Sis, who stood
silent and motionless close at his side, her big, alert, shy eyes
watching like a hunted deer's the trail by which Red Pichot might
return. She was trembling in her heart at every moment that Henderson
lingered within that zone of peril. But she would not presume to
suggest any move.

Suddenly Henderson turned to her and l