, I won't forget you long's I live."

The nurse, at his nod, brought out the skin of a young tiger,
beautifully marked and made into a rug.

"If you wouldn't mind takin' that from me," explained the tamer. "I'd
like to feel you had it, an' I'd like to shake hands with you, missy."

Outside the room Norah turned a flushed face to her father.

"Do let's go home, Daddy," she begged. "Cunjee's too embarrassing for me!"

CHAPTER XIV. CAMPING OUT

"About that fishing excursion, Norah?"

"Yes, Daddy." A small brown paw slid itself into Mr. Linton's hand.

They were sitting on the verandah in the stillness of an autumn evening,
watching the shadows on the lawn become vague and indistinct, and
finally merge into one haze of dusk. Mr. Linton had been silent for a
long time. Norah always knew when her father wanted to talk. This
evening she was content to be silent, too, leaning against his knee in
her own friendly fashion as she curled up at his feet.

"Oh, you hadn't forgotten, then?"

"Well--not much! Only I didn't know if you really wanted to go, Daddy."

"Why, yes," said her father. "I think it would be rather a good idea, my
girlie. There's not much doing on the place just now. I could easily be
spared. And we don't want to leave our trip until the days grow shorter.
The moon will be right, too. It will be full in four or five days--I
forget the exact date. So, altogether, Norah, I think we'd better
consult Brownie about the commissariat department, and make our
arrangements to go immediately."

"It'll be simply lovely," said his daughter, breathing a long sigh of
delight. "Such a long time since we had a camping out--just you and me,
Daddy."

"Yes, it's a good while. Well, we've got to make up for lost time by
catching plenty of fish," said Mr. Linton. "I hope you haven't
forgotten the whereabouts of that fine new hole of yours? You'll have
to take me to it if Anglers' Bend doesn't come up to expectations."

A deep flush came into Norah's face. For a little while she had almost
forgotten the Hermit--or, rather, he had ceased to occupy a prominent
position in her mind, since the talk of the Winfield murder had begun to
die away. The troopers, unsuccessful in their quest, had gone back to
headquarters, and Norah had breathed more freely, knowing that her
friend had escaped--this time. Still, she never felt comfortable in her
mind about him. Never before had she kept any secret from her father,
and the