"
"You'd better not," laughed the girl. "Good-bye and good
luck; but please don't go very far--I shall be terribly lonely
and frightened while you are away."
"Maybe you'd better come along," suggested Billy.
"No, I should be in the way--you can't hunt deer with a
gallery, and get any."
"Well, I'll stay within hailing distance, and you can look for
me back any time between now and sundown. Good-bye,"
and he picked his way down the bank into the river, while
from behind a bush upon the mainland two wicked, black
eyes watched his movements and those of the girl on the shore
behind him while a long, sinewy, brown hand closed more
tightly upon a heavy war spear, and steel muscles tensed for
the savage spring and the swift throw.
The girl watched Billy Byrne forging his way through the
swift rapids. What a mighty engine of strength and endurance
he was! What a man! Yes, brute! And strange to relate
Barbara Harding found herself admiring the very brutality that
once had been repellent to her. She saw him leap lightly to
the opposite bank, and then she saw a quick movement in a
bush close at his side. She did not know what manner of
thing had caused it, but her intuition warned her that behind
that concealing screen lay mortal danger to the unconscious
man.
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