“Why, it’s Pete. We must be late, Pete,” Sylvie called joyously. “Did you see how Hugh saved my life? He threw himself down before the rock and stopped it. He’s hurt his poor arm. The great stone was right on top of us, and he threw me out of the way and set his own strength against it. I couldn’t see the rock, Pete, but it felt like a mountain.” “It was big enough to smash you both,” said Pete. He looked at Hugh, whose eyes glared in a strained, shamed face. The older man’s fingers worked nervously; he opened his lips and closed them again. It was easy to understand the travail of his mind, unwilling to forego the imaginary bit of heroism, and yet abashed by the boy’s awareness of the lie. Pete gave one short laugh; then, springing suddenly across a fallen tree that separated them, he caught Sylvie up into his arms. “You can’t carry her with a wrenched arm,” he said, half gayly, half tauntingly, “and at the best rate she can go, it will be night before we get her home. I’m strong. I’ll carry her myself.” Sylvie laughed protesting that she was being treated like a doll, and resigned herself to Pete’s swift, smooth stride. It was as though she were skimming through space, so quietly did his moccasined feet press the pine-needled earth, so exquisitely did his young strength save her from any jar. He whistled softly through his teeth as he ran in long, swift strides. And as he did not speak to her, she lay silent, yet strangely peaceful and happy. Hugh was left far behind. The forest fragrance moved cool and resinous against her face. “I feel as if we could go on and on forever,” she said with a sigh, “forever and ever and ever.” “We will,” he answered through his teeth, hardly pausing in his whistling for the odd reply. “We will.” But for all that, he set her gently and suddenly down, and she knew that she stood again at the cabin door. “Pete, where are you?” she asked. But he had disappeared, still in utter silence, like a genie whose task is done. CHAPTER X “What did he say to you? What did he say to you?” asked Hugh again and again. Sylvie laughed at him. “He didn’t say anything--hardly a word, except that he pretended he was going on forever. He said: ‘We will, we will.’ That’s absolutely all, Hugh. Don’t be so silly. What _could_ he say?” “I don’t know,” Hugh answered. “He might have made fun of me.” “Fun of you! After saving my life! I’d have boxed his ears! No, no, Peter wouldn’t do that. He’s afraid of me.”