The brutes were now so far to the rear that there was little to be feared from them, though they still kept up the pursuit, and while able to follow in a straight line were doing so with more speed than would be expected.
It struck Sterry that his friend was not skating with his utmost skill. He was alarmed.
"What's the matter, Fred?" he called, drawing quickly near him.
"O, Jennie! Jennie! What will become of her?"
Fred Whitney, it was now apparent, was alone.
Forgetful of the savage brutes, Monteith Sterry slackened his pace, and in a scared voice demanded:
"What has become of her? Where is she?"
"She darted into the mouth of that creek."
"Why didn't you follow?"
"I could not; it was done in a flash; she called to me to keep on and said something else which I could not catch."