Her lips thinned and the hot blood mounted to her cheeks. No matter what conditions sent this man into the woods, there could be no justification for _that_. She shuddered as she drew her skirts away where they brushed lightly against the blankets of his bunk, and turned toward the door. And just at that moment the door opened, and in the gathering darkness a man stood framed in the doorway. She drew back, startled, and with the swiftness of light her glance swept him from the top of his cap to the soles of his heavy boots. He was a large man whose features were concealed by a thick beard. His fringed and beautifully embroidered shirt of buckskin was open at the throat, as if to allow free play to the mighty muscles of his well-formed neck. Only a few seconds he stood thus, and with a swift movement removed the cap from his head. "You will pardon me," he said, and his eyes sought hers; "I did not know any one was here." At the first sound of his voice the girl started. One quick step, and she stood before him, staring into his eyes. She felt her flesh grow cold, and her heart seemed gripped between the jaws of a mighty vise. "_You!_" she gasped, and swayed unsteadily as her hand sought her throat. Her voice came dry and hard and choking as she repeated the word: "_You!_" And in that moment the man saw her face in the deepening gloom of the room. "_Ethel!_" he cried, springing toward her with outstretched arms. Then, when she was almost within their grasp, the arms dropped, for the girl shrank from his touch and her eyes blazed. Thus for a moment they stood facing each other, the girl--white, tense--with blazing eyes, and the big man, who fought for control of himself. Finally he spoke, and his voice was steady and very low. "Forgive me, Ethel," he said. "For the moment I forgot that I have not the right--that there is another----" With a low, moaning cry the girl covered her face with her hands. Even since she faced him there the thought had flashed through her brain that there might be some mistake--that the man might even yet be as he appeared to be--big and brave and _clean_. But now--from his own lips she had heard it--"there is another"--and that other--an _Indian_! A convulsive shudder shook her whole body, the room seemed to reel; she pressed her hands more tightly to her eyes, as if to shut out the sight of him, and the next instant all was dark, and she pitched heavily forward into the arms of the man. For one brief moment he held her, straining her limp body to his. The hands relaxed and fell away from her pallid face, and the bearded lips bent close above the soft lips of the unconscious girl--but _only_ for a moment. Without touching the lips, the man straightened up and, crossing to the bunk, laid the still form upon the blankets. With never a backward glance, he passed out through the door.