"But what—?"
"Jist a moment, pardner," interrupted Dan. "We ain't got no time to waste in words. We've got to act. The last time I was in this region thar was an Injun encampment over thar to the right, on that old cut-off trail, an' mebbe—But hark, what's that?"
"It sounds like the bark of a dog," Grey replied, now standing erect, and listening intently.
"Ay, ay. Didn't I tell ye right? Whar thar's a dog ye may be sure some human critter's not fer away. Come, let's take the lassie an' strike through that openin' over yon. I guess we'll find somethin'."
Stooping, the constable lifted Madeline tenderly in his arms. Dan, however, interposed.
"Ye mustn't do that, laddie. Ye're too weak after yer tryin' experience. Let me carry the lassie."
"No, no, Dan," Grey replied, as he started to leave the place. "Let me carry her for a while. You may take your turn later."
A thrill such as he had not known for years came into Norman's heart, as he bore forward his precious burden. Her face was close to his. Oh, if she would only wake, look into his eyes, and speak to him he would forget and forgive everything, no matter what she had been in the past.
The dog still continued to bark, and by the sound they were able to direct their steps. After a while Grey found it necessary to relinquish his burden to Dan, for he was weaker than he had imagined. This gave him an opportunity to speed on ahead, and in a few minutes the trees became thin, and a clearing burst into view. Looking to the left he saw several log houses, with one in the midst much larger than the others, with smoke issuing from a stovepipe stuck out through the roof. Toward this he hastened, glancing back at times to see whether Dan was following.