"Oh, that impossible boy!" complained Grace. "He nearly frightened me out of my wits. The firing has stopped. I must know what has happened."
Grace crept on cautiously, listening intently, not knowing what moment she might come upon the mountaineer. Either he had been hit or he was still stalking the camp, and she must settle the question in her mind before she would feel safe to settle down for the night.
"Is that you, Grace?" demanded a low, guarded voice just ahead of her.
"Oh, yes! Gracious, Tom, you gave me a start that time! Where is the man?"
"Gone away."
"Was it you who shot at him?"
"No. I was just about to let him have it when some one fired two shots from a revolver. The second shot hit the man in his shoulder, I think, spinning him clean around and dropping him. He was up and staggering away in a few seconds. I followed him for some little distance; then, being satisfied that he was trying to get away, I came back."
"I hope he stays away," said Grace with emphasis.
"He may be back in force," answered Tom. "I could easily have hit the fellow, and was about to put a bullet through his leg when the revolver shots were fired. Say, Grace! You did not do that, did you?"
"No, Tom, I did not, nor do I know who did. Let's go into camp."