stones aside, and slipped out under
the wall of his tent on the side opposite to that whence the creeping
sounds now came.

On hands and knees he crawled softly around the back of his tent,
determined to stalk the stalker. He felt each inch of the way in
advance, to make sure there was nothing that would break or turn under
his weight. He could hear no sounds from the other side now. Rounding
the back of his tent, at the corner he lay flat and stuck his head
around. At first he could see nothing. The tall trees on the further
shore cut off all but the faintest gleam of light from the river. A
little forward and to the left of his tent there was a thick clump of
willow, making a black shadow at its foot that might have concealed
anything. Stonor watched, breathing with open mouth to avoid betraying
himself. Little by little he made out a shadowy form at the foot of the
willows, a shape merely a degree blacker than its background. He could
be sure of nothing.

Then his heart seemed to miss a beat, for against the wan surface of the
river he saw an arm raised and a gun point--presumably at the dummy he
had left under the tent. Oddly enough his shock of horror was not
primarily that one should seek to kill him, Stonor; he was first of all
appalled at the outrage offered to the coat he wore.

The gun spoke and flame leaped from the barrel. Stonor, gathering
himself up, sprang forward on the assassin. At the first touch he
recognized with a great shock of surprise that it was a woman he had to
deal with. Her shoulders were round and soft under his hands; the grunt
she uttered as he bore her back was feminine. He wrenched the gun from
her hands and cast it to one side.

When she caught her breath she fought like a mad cat, with every lithe
muscle of her body and with teeth and claws too. She was strong; strong
and quick as a steel spring. More than once she escaped him. Once she
got half-way up the bank; but here he bore her down on her face and
locked her arms behind her in a grip she was powerless to break.

Jerking her to her feet--one is not too gentle even with a woman who has
just tried to murder one--he forced her before him back to his tent.
Here, holding her with one arm while she swayed and wrenched in her
efforts to free herself, he contrived to draw his knife, and to cut off
one of the stay-ropes of his tent. With this he bound her wrists
together behind her back, and passed the end round a stout trunk of
wi