"Clistin burn mission house, eh?"
"No, no! A Christian would not do that. Only bad men. But look, all the men over there are not bad."
"Some good, eh?"
"Yes."
"Umph!" grunted the old woman, as she went back to her position on the floor, and continued her bead work.
As Constance left the lodge, she was surprised to find how dark it was. She had not noticed how the time had passed so intent had she been upon the object of her visit. She reproached herself for staying so late. What would her father say? And how uneasy he would be.
Quickly she hurried down the trail, fearful lest she should come in contact with any of the miners. Turning up the little path leading to her cabin, she gave a sigh of relief. No one would be there, as it was out of the regular thoroughfare. Just at this moment, when she felt quite secure, a figure loomed up suddenly before her and barred the way.
With a cry of mingled surprise and fear, Constance started back as she recognized Pritchen's burly form, and heard his sneering laugh.
"Frightened, are you?" he asked. "I must be a monster."
"What do you mean?" Constance demanded, summoning what courage she could. "How dare you stop me here in this lonely place!"