"When I took that look out just a bit ago," Phil told him, "I noticed several pretty good signs that seemed to tell we had got to the wind-up. It wouldn't surprise me, because these hard storms are not the ones that last for days. We could go out now, if we didn't mind getting wet from the dripping of the trees." The man had something on his mind, Phil saw. During the night he must have been thinking deeply. Perhaps conscience was gripping him more than ever, and the coming of that fearful storm had been the "last straw on the camel's back." "I hate to ask any further favors of you, Phil," he finally said, with an effort, "but a great fear has taken hold of me during the night. With every fresh howl of the wind I seemed to hear a cry for help! It almost set me wild. If I had not been such a cripple I believe I must have dashed out of the cabin, and spent the remainder of the night wandering around, searching the woods." The rest of the boys stared at him. Perhaps it may have occurred to one or more of them that Mazie's father was losing his mind. But Phil knew there was something back of it all. He had been trying to study the man, figure out what ailed him, and why he had been hiding himself and the child away up in this solitude. "Were you expecting _some one_ to come up here looking for you, sir?" he asked, boldly, remembering what the contents of that telegraph message had been. "Yes, that's what has been worrying me," admitted the man, acting as though he knew the time had come when he must explain away at least a part of the mystery that surrounded him, if he expected these friendly lads to assist him further. "An enemy, most likely?" continued Phil, seeing the other hesitate. At that there was a heavy intaking of the breath, and then the man went on to say: "No, hardly that. I would not like to give it so harsh a term. Say a friend from whom I have been estranged, and who I believed had wronged me; though of late my eyes have been opened to my own faults, and I have repented of many things done in the heat of temper." "And you believe then that this friend may have engaged a guide--that it is at least possible they were not far away from here when the storm broke. You fear they may have been caught and made to suffer; is that it, sir?" Phil was handling the affair wonderfully well, his chums thought, as they listened to all that was being said. "That is what I have cause to fear," the other went on to say, quickly. "Through the livelong night of tempest I have fancied I heard their cries for help, and oh! how they crucified me! It would be a terrible punishment on my head if some tragedy had taken place in the pine woods last night; and Mazie--" his voice failed him in his emotion, and he did not finish his sentence.