He broke off to lead Aldous to a clump of dwarf spruce.  Behind this, white and still in the moonlight, but with eyes wide open and filled with horror, lay Joanne.  Hands and feet were bound, and a big handkerchief was tied over her mouth.  Twenty seconds later Aldous held her shivering and sobbing and laughing hysterically by turns in his arms, while MacDonald’s voice brought Paul and Peggy Blackton to them.  Blackton had recovered from the blow that had dazed him.  Over Joanne’s head he stared at Aldous.  And MacDonald was staring at Blackton.  His eyes were burning a little darkly.

“It’s all come out right,” he said, “but it ain’t a special nice time o’ night to be taking a’ evening walk in this locality with a couple o’ ladies!”

Blackton was still staring at Aldous, with Peggy clutching his arm as if afraid of losing him.

It was Peggy who answered MacDonald.

“And it was a nice time of night for you to send a message asking us to bring Joanne down the trail!” she cried, her voice trembling.

“We——­” began Aldous, when he saw a sudden warning movement on MacDonald’s part, and stopped.  “Let us take the ladies home,” he said.

With Joanne clinging to him, he led the way.  Behind them all MacDonald growled loudly: 

“There’s got t’ be something done with these damned beasts of furriners.  It’s gettin’ so no woman ain’t safe at night!”

Twenty minutes later they reached the bungalow.  Leaving Joanne and Peggy inside, now as busily excited as two phoebe birds, and after Joanne had insisted upon Aldous sleeping at the Blacktons’ that night, the two men accompanied MacDonald a few steps on his way back to camp.

As soon as they were out of earshot Blackton began cursing softly under his breath.

“So you didn’t send that damned note?” he asked.  “You haven’t said so, but I’ve guessed you didn’t send it!”

“No, we didn’t send a note.”

“And you had a reason—­you and MacDonald—­for not wanting the girls to know the truth?”

“A mighty good reason,” said Aldous.  “I’ve got to thank MacDonald for closing my mouth at the right moment.  I was about to give it away.  And now, Blackton, I’ve got to confide in you.  But before I do that I want your word that you will repeat nothing of what I say to another person—­even your wife.”

Blackton nodded.

“Go on,” he said.  “I’ve suspected a thing or two, Aldous.  I’ll give you my word.  Go on.”

As briefly as possible, and without going deeply into detail, Aldous told of Quade and his plot to secure possession of Joanne.

“And this is his work,” he finished.  “I’ve told you this, Paul, so that you won’t worry about Peggy.  You can see from to-night’s events that they were not after her, but wanted Joanne.  Joanne must not learn the truth.  And your wife must not know.  I am going to settle with Quade.  Just how and where and when I’m going to settle with him I don’t care to say now.  But he’s going to answer to me.  And he’s going to answer soon.”