The girl, who had gained a point halfway to the top of the bluff, paused to look searchingly about, and Brian, who was half-hidden by the bushes, started to call to her, thinking she might be looking for him; but some impulse checked him and he remained silently watching her. Climbing hurriedly a little higher up the path Judy again stopped to look carefully around, as if searching the vicinity for some one. Then, once more, she went on until she stood on top of the cliff; and now, as she looked about over the surrounding country, she called: “Mr. Burns! Oh, Mr. Burns! Who-o-e-e! Mr. Burns!” Brian's lips were parted to answer the call when something happened on top of the bluff which held him for the moment speechless. From beyond where Judy stood on the brink of the cliff, a man's head and shoulders appeared. Brian saw the girl start and turn to face the newcomer as if in sudden fear. Then she whirled about to run. Before she could gain the point where the path starts down from the top, the man caught her and dragged her roughly back, so that the two disappeared from Brian's sight. Brian was halfway up the bluff when he heard the girl's shrill scream. There was no sign of weakness, now, in the man that Judy had dragged from the river. He covered the remaining distance to the top in a breath. From among the bushes, a little way down the mountainside, came the sound of an angry voice mingled with Judy's pleading cries. An instant more, and Brian reached the spot where poor Judy was crouching on the ground, begging the brute, who stood over her with menacing fists, not to hit her again. The man was a vicious-looking creature, dressed in the rough garb of the mountaineer; dirty and unkempt, with evil, close-set eyes, and a scraggly beard that could not hide the wicked, snarling mouth. He stood for a second looking at Brian, as if too surprised by the latter's sudden appearance to move; then he went down, felled by as clean a knockout as was ever delivered by an Irish fist. “Are you hurt, Judy?” demanded Brian, as he lifted the girl to her feet. “Did he strike you?” “He was sure a-fixin' ter lick me somethin' awful when you-all put in,” returned the poor girl, trembling with fear. “I know, 'cause he's done hit to me heaps er times before. He's my pap.” “Your father!” exclaimed Brian. Judy nodded;--then screamed: “Look out! He'll git you, sure!” Judy's rescuer whirled, to see the man on the ground drawing a gun. A vigorous, well-directed kick, delivered in the nick of time, sent the gun whirling away into the bushes and rendered the native's right arm useless. “Get up!” commanded Brian. The man rose to his feet, and stood nursing his damaged wrist and scowling at Judy's companion. “Are you this girl's father?” “I reckon I am,” came the sullen reply. “I'm Jap Taylor, an' you-all are sure goin' to find that you can't come between a man an' his lawful child in these here mountains, mister,--if you-all be from the city.”