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There was one little corner of his brain that fought hi him, like a parrot, that it was a tress of Marette's hair about Kedsty's throat, and that it was the hair that had choked him But Marette would explain that, too He was sure of it In the face of the facts beloas illogical and unreasonable He knew it But his love for this girl, who had coically into his life, was like an intoxicant And his faith was illimitable She did not kill Kedsty Another part of his brain kept repeating that over and over, even as he recalled that only a few hours before she had told him quite calmly that she would kill the Inspector of Police--if a certain thing should happen

His hands worked as swiftly as his thoughts He laced up his service boots All the food and dishes on the table he made into a compact bundle and placed in the shoulder-pack He carried this and the rifle out into the hall Then he returned to Marette's rooirl's voice told him that she was not quite ready

He waited He could hear herabout quickly in her room An interval of silence followed Another five ain This tie in Marette She had stepped back frolow Her slim, beautiful body was dressed in a velvety blue corduroy; the coat was close-fitting and boyish; the skirt cah-topped caribou boots About her waist was a holster and the little black gun Her hair was done up and crowded under a close-fitting turban She was exquisitely lovely, as she stood there waiting for hi out of place The corduroy, the turban, the short skirt, and the high, laced boots were made for the wilderness She was not a tenderfoot She was a little sourdough--clear through! Gladness leaped into Kent's face But it was not the transfored in another way Her cheeks were flushed Her eyes gloith a strange and wonderful radiance as she looked at him Her lips were red, as he had seen thean's place Her pallor, her fear, her horror were gone, and in their place was the repressed excitee adventure