going till you're overtaken by a down-river boat. I want her as far
away from here as possible. There's going to be some hell in this
camp. Now, hike, and get yourself ready."

"All right! But I ain't the safest kind of a chaperon for a good-
looking girl."

Stark laid a cold hand on Runnion's shoulder, close up to his neck.

"Get that out of your mind. She belongs to me."

"You said just now--"

"Never mind what I said. She's mine, and you've got to promise to be
straight with her. I've trusted you before, and if you're not on the
level now, say so. It will save you a lot of trouble."

"Oh! All right!" exclaimed Runnion, testily. "Only it looks mighty
queer."

He melted into the darkness and Stark returned to his cabin, where
he paced back and forth impatiently, smiling evilly now and then,
consulting his watch at frequent intervals. A black look had begun
to settle on his face, but it vanished when Necia came, and he met
her with a smile.

"I was afraid you had weakened," he said. "Everything is ready and
waiting. I've got the only canoe in the place, a Peterborough, and
hired a good oarsman to put you through, instructing him to make as
fast time as he can, and to board the first steamer that overtakes