ves and murderers, ferocious and obscene.
Only one kindly human soul dwelt among those majestic, forested heights.

She was pale, sad, but entirely composed, and to Hanscom very beautiful,
as she appeared in the vestibule of the long day-coach, but her face
flushed with pleasure at sight of him, and as she grasped his hand and
looked into his fine eyes something warm and glowing flooded her heart.

"Oh, how relieved I am to find you here!" she exclaimed, and her lips
trembled in confirmation of her words. "I did not expect you. I was
afraid my telegram had not reached you."

"Did you telegraph me?" he asked. "I didn't get it--but I'm here all the
same," he added, and fervently pressed the hands which she had allowed
him to retain.

Oblivious of the curious crowd, she faced him in a sudden realization of
her dependence upon him, and her gratitude for his stark manliness was
so deep, so full, she could have put her hands about his neck. How
dependable, how simple, how clear-eyed he was!

He on his part found her greatly changed in both face and voice. She
seemed clothed in some new, strange dignity, and yet her glance was less
remote, less impersonal than before and her pleasure at sight of him
deeply gratifying. In spite of himself his spirits lightened.

"I have a lot to tell you," he began, but the sheriff courteously
interposed:

"Put her right into my machine--You go too, Hanscom."

"I couldn't prevent this," he began, sorrowfully, as he took a seat
beside her; "but you will not be put into a cell. Mrs. Throop will treat
you as a guest."

The self-accusation in his voice moved her to put her hand on his arm in
caressing reassurance. "Please don't blame yourself about that," she
said. "I don't mind. It's only for the night, anyway. Let us think of
to-morrow."

The ride was short and Mrs. Throop, a tall, dark, rather gloomy woman,
came to the door to meet her guests with the air of an old-fashioned
village hostess, serious but kindly.

"Mrs. Throop," said her husband. "This is Miss McLaren and her father,
Mr. Kauffman. Make them as comfortable as you can."

Mrs. Throop greeted Helen with instant kindly interest. "I am pleased to
know you. Come right in. You must be tired."

"I am," confessed the girl, "very tired and very dusty. I hope you
always put your prisoners under the hose."

"I'll give you my spare chamber," replied the matron, with abstracted
glance. "It's next the bath-room. I'm sorry, but I