ike."

"Very possible," answered Stane, flashing a quick look at her. He was
looking for the sign of fear, but found none, and a second later he
said abruptly: "Miss Yardely, I think you are very brave."

"Oh," laughed the girl in some confusion, "I don't know that, but I
hope I am not below the general average of my sex."

"You are above it," he said with emphasis. "And I know that this, even
for the bravest of women, must be rather a nerve-breaking walk."

"I won't deny that I find it so," was the reply. "But I am sustained by
an ideal."

"Indeed?" he asked inquiringly.

"Yes! Years ago I read about some English women in India who were at a
military station when the Mutiny broke out. The regiments in the
neighbourhood were suspected of disloyalty and any sign of fear or
panic would have precipitated a catastrophe. If the women had left, the
Sepoys would have known that they were suspected, so they remained
where they were, attending to their households, paying their ordinary
calls, riding about the district as if the volcano were not bubbling
under their feet, and they even got up a ball in defiance of the
danger. Some people would call the latter mere bravado, but I am sure
it was just a picturesque kind of courage, and in any case it impressed
the Sepoys. Those particular regiments remained loyal--and it was the
behaviour of the white women which saved the situation. And their
courage is my ideal. I have always felt that if I were placed in a
similar situation I would at least try to live up to it."

"You are doing so," answered Stane with conviction. "This situation is
not quite the same, but----" He broke off and looked round the silent
woods, which might well be the hiding-place of implacable enemies, then
added: "Well, it is a test of character and courage!"

"Oh," laughed the girl a little nervously, "you do not know how I am
quaking inwardly."

"I am not to blame for that," he answered laughingly, "you conceal the
fact so well."

In due time they reached the cabin without mishap. They had found no
sign of the enemy of the previous night. If he still lurked in the wood
he kept himself hidden and Stane hoped that he had withdrawn for good.
But he determined to take no chances, and busied himself in the next
few hours with cutting a good store of wood which he stacked in the
cabin. He also chopped a considerable amount of ice which he stored as
far away from the stove as possible. Some cached moose-me