The convict reappeared, his rifle
under his arm.
The new-comer greeted the man whom Sibyl knew as Henry Marston, with,
"Hello, George, everything all right? Where is she?"
"Miss Andres is in the cabin. When I heard you coming, I asked her to go
inside, and took cover in the brush, myself, until I knew for sure that it
was you."
Rutlidge laughed. "You are all right, George. But you needn't worry.
Everything is as peaceful as a graveyard. They've found the horse, and
they think now that the girl killed herself, or met with an accident while
wandering around the hills in a state of mental aberration."
"You left the supplies at the same old place, I suppose?" said the
convict.
"Yes, I brought what I could," Rutlidge indicated a pack which he had
slipped from his shoulder as he was talking. "You better hike over there
and bring in the rest to-night. If you leave at once, you will make it
back by noon, to-morrow."
The girl in the cabin, listening, heard every word and trembled with fear.
The convict spoke again.
"What are your plans, Mr. Rutlidge?"
"Never mind my plans, now. They can wait until you get back. You must
start at once. You say Miss Andres is in the cabin?" He turned toward the
door.
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