At last came the time when the sun
slipped down behind the ridge and the dusk thickened and the stars came
out. Kendric rose, stiff and weary, and began his slow, tedious way
down into the canon. His long enforced stillness during which he had
not dared doze a second, had served to bring a full realization of
bodily fatigue and need of sleep. No rest last night; today many hard
miles and little nourishment; now every nerve yearned for a safe return
to camp for a sight of Betty, for the opportunity to throw himself down
on a bed of boughs and rest.
Though it was dark when he started to climb the steep toward camp he
relaxed nothing of his guarded precautions. Urged by impatience as he
was, eager to know if all was well with Betty, his uneasiness for her
growing with every step toward her, he crawled slowly and silently
through bushes and among boulders, he stopped frequently and listened,
he forced himself to a round about way rather than take the direct.
All this in spite of his keen realization that for Betty the time must
be dragging even as it dragged for him. Betty hungry, frightened and
lonely was, above all, uncertain.
But at last he came to the opening in the rocks. He squeezed through,
his heart suddenly heavy within him as the stillness of the place smote
him like a positive assurance that Betty was gone. He went on, his
teeth set hard. If Betty were gone, by high heaven, there would be a
rendering of accounts! And then, even before the first glimmer of her
little fire reached him, he heard her glad cry.
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