CHAPTER XXVII.
HALLORAN MEETS WITH HIS REWARD.
In an instant after the match had been applied a fiery tongue of flame leaped to the ceiling, lighting the interior of the cabin with a blinding glare of red light.
Seizing his hat, Halloran dashed from the place and down the road, never pausing until he had reached the fork of the roads. Then he stopped for breath and looked back over his shoulder.
A high ridge of ground intervened, completely hiding the doomed place from his view.
He did not even behold the column of fire and smoke, as he had anticipated.
"Those old boards are so damp that it will probably take some time to ignite them, and there's no use waiting to see that," he muttered. "I will be well on my way to the railway station by that time."
He redoubled his speed to get as far away from the scene as possible, for, villain though he was, this was his first actual crime, and his conscience troubled him a little.
Another mile or more he traversed through the heavy snow; then he suddenly became conscious that there were rapidly approaching footsteps behind him.
Great heavens! had Lester Armstrong succeeded in making his escape? No, it could not be. Even if so, he was too weak to run in that rapid fashion. Involuntarily he paused and glanced backward over his shoulder. The next instant a wild, panting cry of mortal terror broke from his lips.
In that backward glance he had beheld a huge black bear, making rapidly toward the spot where he stood, fairly paralyzed with horror.
It dawned upon him suddenly that only a few days before he had read of the escape of one of the most ferocious black bears of the zoological gardens, and, though two days had elapsed and men were scouring all parts of the adjacent places, no trace of the animal had been found, and great fears were expressed of the grave damage the bear might do before he was recaptured.
This was undoubtedly the animal that had escaped which was making toward him with great leaps and savage growls, as though it had already marked him for its prey.
His teeth chattered like castanets; his eyes fairly bulged from their sockets; the breath came in hot gasps from his white lips; his brain reeled, as he took in, in that rapid glance of horror, his awful doom.
Nearer and nearer sounded the hoarse, awful growls; nearer and nearer moved the huge black mass over the white, crunching snow.
The moon was slowly rising over the horizon, rendering all objects clearly distinct to his frightened gaze.
He was passing through a narrow belt of woodland, and like an inspiration it occurred to him that his only hope of escape lay in climbing one of the trees and thus outwitting the bear.
He saw with sinking heart that they were scarcely more than saplings, and whether or not they would bear his weight without snapping in twain he dared not even pause to consider.
With a groan of mortal terror he sprang for the nearest tree. Fright seemed to lend him wonderful strength and agility; he succeeded in reaching the lowest limb as the animal, with glittering eyes and widely distended jaws, reached the tree.
Up, up, crept Halloran, his teeth chattering, his strength almost leaving him as the animal's roar of baffled rage fell upon his ear.
To and fro bent the sapling under his weight, threatening to snap asunder each moment and cast him into the jaws of the enraged beast.
The hours that followed were of such keen, mortal terror that he vaguely wondered that he did not lose his reason through fright.
With fascinated eyes he watched the antics of the thoroughly enraged animal. The bear made many efforts to climb the tree in pursuit of his prey, but the swaying sapling was too slender to give him a hold, and its bark too slippery with its coating of ice to insert the claws, which had been clipped quite close, rendering them almost powerless in taking a firm grasp.
The night had closed in intensely cold, and Halloran could feel his cramped limbs and hands slowly stiffening, but he dared not lose his grip.
The moon rose higher and higher in the night sky, shedding a white, clear, bright light over the snow-clad earth.
He knew that the animal was watching his every movement closely, as each time he shifted his position brought a savage growl from the bear, which was circling round and round the tree, eying him intently.
For long hours this lasted, until the half frozen man, hanging on for dear life to the upper branches of the sapling, thought he should go mad.
With the coming of daylight the bear changed his tactics, lying down directly under the tree, still eying his prey with his small, beady, expectant eyes, as though measuring the time that his victim could hold out.
The daylight grew stronger; slowly in the eastern horizon the red sun rose, gilding the white, glistening snow with its rosy light.
Hour by hour it climbed the blue azure height, crossed the zenith, and then slowly sank behind the western hills, heralding the oncoming of another night.
Still the brute, with almost incredible cunning, sat in the same position under the tree, watching Halloran's every move.
"God rescue me!" he cried, lifting his white face to the Heaven he had so offended.
"If I pass another night here I shall go mad—mad!"
He was famished with hunger, numb with cold, and his mouth and throat were dry with unconquerable thirst.
In those hours of suffering he thought of Lester Armstrong, and of the awful fate he had doomed him to. He realized by his own experience of a few hours what he must have endured, and a bitter groan of remorse broke from his clammy lips.
"This is Heaven's punishment," he cried. "Oh, Lester Armstrong. God has surely avenged you! If I could but atone; if it were to be done over again, I would have no hand in the atrocious crime that has dyed my hands just as surely as though I had plunged a knife into your heart!"
In his haste on leaving the cabin he had not taken time to secure his revolver; he had no weapon; he was doomed to meet the same fate that he had meted out to Lester Armstrong—starve to death slowly, hour by hour—knowing that when he was too weak to hold longer to the branch he would fall.
Oh, God in heaven! fall into the gaping jaws of the enraged animal that was waiting to receive him.
He had led too wicked a life to pray; he did not know a prayer; he could only raise his agonized eyes to the far-off sky, wondering how long his awful torture could last-how long he would be able to hold out—how long.
He felt his blood slowly turning to ice in his veins, and slowly and surely the dusk deepened and the darkness of another night fell over the world.