Betty went through the window with a lithe vault and a noiseless drop outside. I followed, dropped beside her, and, catching her hand, led as silently as possible away from the cabin until I felt sure we were out of hearing. Then we swung carefully back through the brush to the river trail at a point well below the mine clearing.
“Now for the canoe!” I whispered. “Come on!”
I ran as I had not run since a boy, and as I glanced back over my shoulder I saw Betty following closely.
We found the canoe where we had left it. Betty was in the bow before I had it untied. I pushed off, and, regardless of the rocks, we paddled furiously down-stream for the open water of the bay.
Not until we had entered the fiord and put an out-jutting cliff between ourselves and the river-mouth did we relax. Then Betty laid her paddle across the bows, bowed her head, and a tremor shook her slim body.
“Don’t—don’t, Miss Baldwin!” I pleaded. “On my word and honor I feel absolutely confident that we are safe now.”
To my surprise she replied—
“I feel safe, too.”
“You’re tired, then, and cold. Put the blanket about you, and rest. I’ll paddle the rest of the way.”
She shook her head, and resumed her paddling.