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Dick Lynch, a man of about his own size, shape and coloring, one of the six who had taken cover on the hillside the firelight in his stead, carrying a fragment of broken spar. The change was not noticed by the men from the wreck.

Sidney had hurried radiantly in for a moment. Christine's parlor was gay with firelight and noisy with chatter and with the clatter of her tea-cups. K., lounging indolently in front of the fire, had turned to see Sidney in the doorway, and leaped to his feet. "I can't come in," she cried. "I am only here for a moment. I am out sleigh-riding with Dr. Wilson. It's perfectly delightful."

Bessy sank into the cushions, watching the firelight play on her diamond chain as she repeated the restless gesture of lifting it up and letting it slip through her fingers. "Well and then?" "Then nothing! I was not here when he came." "You were not here? What had happened?" "I had gone over to Blanche Carbury's for a day or two.

It was a bold undertaking, for to reach them he was obliged to leave the shelter of the building and advance some distance into the open, where at any moment he might be revealed to his enemies by flashes of firelight from the smouldering timbers near by. Fully realizing the risk he ran, but undismayed by it, the brave boy made several trips to and from the pile of books and papers.

My father and D'ri fired at the bunch, killing one of the captives and another the largest wolf I ever saw. The pack had slunk away as they heard the rifles. Our remaining captive struggled to get free, but in a moment D'ri had brained him with an axe. He and my father reset our traps and hauled the dead wolves into the firelight.

"But not the brand I'm a-thirstin' for." Mac was on the point of replying when there came a most unexpected interruption. I looked up at sound of a startled exclamation, and beheld the round African physog of Lyn Rowan's colored mammy. But she had no eyes for me; she stood like a black statue just within the firelight, a tin bucket in one hand, staring over my head at MacRae.

But it was Ricky who took up what lay within and held it out so that it reflected both red firelight and golden room light. Her brother's sigh was one of satisfaction. For Ricky held aloft by its ponderous hilt a great war sword. There could be no doubt in any of them the Luck of Lorne had returned. "We found it!" breathed Ricky. "Put it in its place," Val ordered.

Olive, wondering at her temper, presently divined the cause of it. The folding doors that led into the library were half closed. No lamps, but a flicker of firelight and the hush of lowered voices, Edna's pleasant little pipe and a man's brief, murmured answers, and there were short spaces of silence too. The American girl and her prince were there.

Now such things would be impossible," he added cheerfully; "then, I fear, they were but too probable." "In your heart you believe that it is true?" He did not flinch from his response. "In my heart I believe that there is more in it than a lie." Rising from her chair, she turned from him and walked rapidly up and down the room, through the firelight which shimmered over the polished floor.

In the dark porch sat several men. Through the kitchen door he could see his mother getting supper. Inside a dozen rifles leaned against the wall in the firelight, and about their butts was a pile of ammunition. In the doorway stood Rufe Stetson. ALL were smoking and silent.