The girl was worried by the long delay in Layson's coming. For fully half an hour she had been listening for his cheery hail--that hail which had, of late, come to mean so much to her--as she worked about her household tasks. The last words he had said to her had hinted at such unimagined possibilities of riches, of education, of delirious delights to come, that her impatience was but natural; and, besides this, Joe's words had worried her. She did not think the mountaineer would ever really let his jealousy lead him to a foul attack upon his rival, but his words had worried her. She stood upon her doorstep, hand above her eyes, and peered across the gorge toward where the trail debouched into the little clearing. Nothing was in sight there, and her gaze wandered along the little rocky field, in aimless scrutiny. Finally it chanced upon the prostrate form of the young man. "What's that lyin' thar?" she thought, intensely startled. And then, after another moment's peering: "Why, it's Mr. Frank!" She was amazed and frightened. Then her eye caught the little sputtering of sparks along the fuse. It further startled her. "It's Mr. Frank and somethin's burnin' close beside him!" Suspicion flashed into her mind like lightning, followed, almost instantly, by firm conviction. "It's a fuse," she cried, "an' thar by him is th' bomb! It's Joe Lorey's work! Oh, oh--" She sprang down the rough path toward the place where, ever since she could remember, the little bridge had swung. Now, though, it was gone. "The bridge!" she cried. "The bridge! It's gone! I can't cross! I've got to see him die!" Her frantic eyes caught sight of the frayed rope, dangling from the firm supports which had so long held up the bridge by means of it. Instantly her quick mind saw the only chance there was to save the man whom, now, she knew she loved. She sprang for the rope and caught it, gave herself a mighty push with both her agile feet, and, hanging above certain death if hold should fail or rope break, swung across the chasm and found foothold on the mainland. In another second she was at the side of the unconscious man. Another and she had the cartridge, sputtering fuse and all, in her right hand, another and the deadly thing was hurtling to the bottom of the deep ravine, whence an almost immediately ensuing crashing boom told her that she had not arrived a moment sooner than had been essential to the salvation of the man she loved. She knelt by Frank, pulled his head up to her knee, chafed at his insensate hands, and called to him wildly, fearing that he was dead. CHAPTER XII