Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Fairbanks, AK, 99712. I shall not let you go till I am quite sure. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. But his own ferocity was less now that she was disarmed.
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