"You left the supplies at the same old place, I suppose?" said the convict. "Yes, I brought what I could," Rutlidge indicated a pack which he had slipped from his shoulder as he was talking. "You better hike over there and bring in the rest to-night. If you leave at once, you will make it back by noon, to-morrow." The girl in the cabin, listening, heard every word and trembled with fear. The convict spoke again. "What are your plans, Mr. Rutlidge?" "Never mind my plans, now. They can wait until you get back. You must start at once. You say Miss Andrés is in the cabin?" He turned toward the door. But the other said, shortly, "Wait a minute, sir. I have a word to say, before I go." "Well, out with it." "You are not going to forget your promise to me?" "Certainly not, George. You are safe." "I mean regarding Miss Andrés." "Oh, of course not! Why, what's the matter?" "Nothing, only she is in my care until she is your wife." James Rutlidge laughed. "I will take good care of her until you get back. You need have no fear. You're not doubting my word, are you?" "If I doubted your word, I would take Miss Andrés with me," answered the convict, simply. James Rutlidge looked at him, curiously; "Oh, you would?" "Yes, sir, I would; and I think I should tell you, too, that if you _should_ forget your promise--" "Well, what would you do if I should forget?" The answer came deliberately; "If you do not keep your promise I will kill you, Mr. Rutlidge." James Rutlidge did not reply. Stepping to the cabin door, the convict knocked. Sibyl's voice answered, "Yes?" "You may come out now, please, Miss Andrés." As the girl opened the door, she spoke to him in a low tone. "Thank you, Mr. Marston. I heard." "I meant you to hear," he returned in a whisper. "Do not be afraid." In a louder tone he continued. "I must go for supplies, Miss Andrés. I will be back to-morrow noon." He stepped around the corner of the cabin, and was gone. Sibyl Andrés faced James Rutlidge, without speaking. She was not afraid, now, as she had always been in his presence, until that day when he had so plainly declared himself to her and she met his advances with a gun. The convict's warning to the man who could send him back to prison for practically the remaining years of his life, had served its purpose in giving her courage. She did not believe that, for the present, Rutlidge would dare to do otherwise than heed the warning. [Illustration: Still she did not speak.] James Rutlidge regarded her with a smile of triumphant satisfaction. "Really," he said, at last, "you do not seem at all glad to see me." She made no reply. "I am frightfully hungry"--he continued, with a short laugh, moving toward her as she stood in the door of the cabin--"I've been walking since midnight I was in such a hurry to get here that I didn't even stop for breakfast." She stepped out, and moved away from the door. With another laugh, he entered the cabin.