“I am sure he will not be disappointed,” Jean replied, as she examined each present.  “You and Mr. Watson have done remarkable work.”

For some time they sat and talked before the fire, and when Jean at last rose to go, Mrs. Watson looked at her with admiration.

“This life certainly agrees with you,” she said.  “I never saw you look better.  And you are the envy of all the girls, too.  I do not wonder at that.”

Jean blushed, for she knew very well to what the woman referred.

“If they envy me, they never show it,” was the cheery reply.  “They are as kind and sweet to me as can be.”

“They couldn’t be anything else, dear.  They would give worlds to be engaged to a young man like Dane Norwood, and to wear such a brooch as the one he gave you.  All the girls look upon him as a hero.”

In order to hide her embarrassment, Jean kissed Mrs. Watson and left the house.  It was dark outside, but she did not mind this as she had often come that same way alone at night.  In fact, no sense of fear entered her mind, for she was thinking of the words she had Just heard.  As she raised her right hand and touched the Love-Token at her throat, a feeling of joy thrilled her heart.  She recalled the day it had been given to her, and Dane’s avowal of love.  To-morrow he would be with her again, and her happiness would be complete.

She had gone but half way home when, without the slightest warning, she was seized by strong arms, a big hand was placed over her mouth, and she was borne bodily away.  Desperately she struggled to free herself, and made frantic attempts to call for help.  But her efforts were all in vain, for those entwining arms held her fast, and that hand still pressed firmly her mouth.  At length she ceased her struggles, for a great terror rendered her limp and helpless.  She knew that she was being carried through the bushes toward the river.  After that she remembered no more until she found herself lying in the bottom of a canoe which was being driven through the water at a great speed.  With a startled cry, she raised her head and looked around.  Dark though it was, she could dimly see the forms of two men swaying strongly at their paddles.

“Where am I?” she asked in a trembling voice.  “What are you going to do with me?”

For a few seconds there was intense silence.  Then the men spoke to each other, and although Jean could not understand what was said, she knew from the deep guttural words that her captors were Indians.  After a brief conversation, nothing more was said, and the girl had not the heart to question further.