ress protects her young, so did she cast her body between him
and the fiery serpent hissing on the rock, her one thought being for his
preservation. As she crouched above him there came vaguely into her mind
the remembrance of a story told her in the long ago by her father, the
story of a man who had saved his comrade by the plucking out of the
burning fuse from a blast which was on the point of killing the man
caught beneath some falling timbers. The details came painfully slow to
her dazed mind and over there the fuse was hissing ominously.

Suddenly it was all clear to her and unhesitatingly she sprang to the
shelf and clutched the smoking terror with both hands. One frantic tug
and the deadly dynamite was dangling before her; with the swiftness of a
swallow she reached the mouth of the tunnel and, summoning all her
strength for one mighty effort, cast it far down the mountain side. Then
she turned unsteadily and slowly groped her way, like one who is blind,
to the silent figure on the tunnel floor.

Everything was swimming about her in a confused whirl; with a great
effort she raised his head to her shoulder. A broad red stain spread
over her white bodice but her eyes were unseeing, her lips passing
searchingly over his face. As they found his mouth and rested there, a
sharp explosion, followed by a tremendous rumble, jarred the air.

As though awakened from sleep by that detonation, Douglass opened his
eyes. Her face was still upon his and he blinked uncomprehendingly. She
was crying softly, helplessly, and his face was wet with her tears.
Impulsively he put his arm around her and sat up erect.

With returning consciousness came remembrance and he cast his eyes
fearfully towards the shelf, springing to his feet as he did so, with
the girl firmly clasped in his arms. He took two steps towards the mouth
of the tunnel and safety. Then he looked again at the little innocuous
heap of sand; he passed his hand wonderingly over his eyes. There was a
dull smear on the bronzed finger backs and he noticed the stain on her
bodice.

"You are hurt!" His voice was husky with fear and sympathy. She shook
her head negatively, not trusting herself to speak. "But the blast--the
powder--where is it?"

"I threw it down the mountain side. You stumbled and fell. There was no
other way."

He felt of his head tentatively; then he looked again at the stain on
her bosom. He turned her face inquiringly to the light; upon lips and
chee