sked himself. "To go any distance, he would have to walk
along a highway, or ride in a motor-car, or board a train; and in any case
he might be seen and traced. On the other hand, Lumley knows the forest
like a book. He has lived in it for years. Where else could he so well
hope to elude pursuit?" Charley felt certain that Lumley must be somewhere
in the forest.

Immediately he got his rifle, filled the magazine, and stood it within
reach. He tried to read, but was too nervous. Then he thought of the open
windows and his light within the cabin. Any one could see through the
windows--or shoot through them. Charley put his flash-light in his pocket
and blew out his lamp. The evening was warm, and Charley opened the door
and sat down on the sill, leaning against the jamb of the door, and
cradling his rifle across his knees.

Soon his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. From where he sat,
Charley could look out over what seemed like infinite stretches of forest.
The moon had not yet risen, and the valleys below him were vast depths of
darkness. Mist floated above, partly obscuring the stars. A gentle breeze
was blowing up here on the mountain top, but Charley knew that down in the
valleys the air was like stagnant water. The whispering of the trees
around him was like the quiet breathing of a babe asleep, and the
occasional sounds of the forest creatures were no more disturbing than the
gentle murmurs of a dreaming child. Peace enfolded the forest. It seemed
to Charley as though that great, invisible, beneficent Spirit we call God
had cradled the forest in His arms as a mother cradles her little ones.
The thought comforted him. Something of the peace about him crept into his
own heart. He drew a long sigh and sat back.

After a time he began to feel drowsy. He took his blanket and his rifle,
and, closing his cabin door, climbed to the fire-tower. He closed and
bolted the trap-door in the floor of the tower. For some time he sat on
the edge of his bunk, watching the forest. Behind the eastern mountains
the sky began to glow. The moon was coming up. In another hour or two,
Charley knew, the forest would be flooded with silvery light. He loved the
moonlight on the pines, but he was becoming too sleepy to stay awake to
see it. The moment the moon's first rays shot over the eastern hilltops,
Charley lay back in his bunk, stood his rifle within reach, drew the
blankets about him, and was almost instantly asleep.

Yet he sl