“Come! Come quickly!”
“What is it?” he demanded, wondering. “What do you want? What is the matter?”
“You must help him,” she answered swiftly. “He says to bring you. But you must hurry. Run!”
Again she had touched him, was tugging at his sleeve. He looked at her curiously, even suspiciously, not unmindful of the bear-pit of this morning. But her eyes were wide with alarm not inspired by him, alarm too sincere to be mistrusted. Since all things are possible, it might be that the madman had sent her to lure Sheldon into some further danger. But there was only one way to know.
“Go on,” he said crisply. “I’m with you.”
She turned then and sped back the way she had come, Sheldon running at her heels, she turning her head now and then, accommodating her pace to his. This way and that they wove their way through the forest. In a little they were again under the cliffs standing upon the eastern rim of the valley. In the open now, he carried his rifle in two hands, ready.
But here at least was no trap set for him. Paula, running on ahead of him, now suddenly had dropped to her knees, and for the first time Sheldon saw the prone body of the madman. The girl had taken his head into her lap and was bending over him; the gaunt, hollow, burning eyes blazed full at Sheldon. And they were filled with malice, with lurking cunning, with suspicion, and unutterable hatred. But the man made no effort to rise. Sheldon came on until he stood over him.
“He fell from the cliffs?” he asked, looking down for a second into the eyes of Paula which, filled with anguish, were turned up to him.
She sought to answer, but her voice broke; she choked up and could only shake her head. He looked away from her to the head resting in her lap. There was reason enough for the dread in Paula’s breast; the man was dying!
“Tell me,” said Sheldon softly, “can I do anything for you? Is there any way I can help you?”