Very early, Sibyl insisted that her companion lie down to sleep upon the
bed she had made. When he protested, she answered, laughing, "Very well,
then, but you will be obliged to sit up alone," and, with a "Good night,"
she retired to her own bed in another corner of the cabin. Once or twice,
he spoke to her, but when she did not answer he lay down upon his woodland
couch and in a few minutes was fast asleep.
In the dim light of the embers, the girl slipped from her bed and stole
quietly across the room to the fire-place, to lay another stick of wood
upon the glowing coals. A moment she stood, in the ruddy light, looking
toward the sleeping man. Then, without a sound, she stole to his side, and
kneeling, softly touched his forehead with her lips. As silently, she
crept back to her couch.
* * * * *
All that afternoon Brian Oakley had been following with trained eyes, the
faintly marked trail of the man whose dead body was lying, now, at the
foot of the cliff. When the darkness came, the mountaineer ate a cold
supper and, under a rude shelter quickly improvised by his skill in
woodcraft, slept beside the trail. Near the head of Clear Creek, Jack
Carleton, on his way to Granite Peak, rolled in his blanket under the
pines.
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