“Perhaps I’d better not go on with you.  I’ll get some one else to take you through the mountains.  I——­”

“No, Mr. Grubb.  You will go on with us,” insisted Miss Elting.  “We are not afraid.  We are quite used to taking care of ourselves, but I wished to impress upon you the advisability of being on your guard.  If you have an enemy who intends to do you harm, naturally we shall be likely to suffer with you.  For that reason I urge caution.  Another thing about which I should like to speak is the burning of the bridge this evening.”

Janus braced himself.  It was as if he looked for an inquiry on this subject, but had been hoping to avoid it.

“Yes?”

“I wish some one would explain how the bridge happened to catch fire,” urged the guardian.

“So do I,” he admitted, still consulting his abundant whiskers.  “What do you think?”

“I think some one set it on fire,” declared Jane explosively.  “I’d like to meet the villain on the broad highway, some time when I have my car!”

“Yes, it was set on fire,” agreed Hazel, nodding reflectively.  “I thought so at the time.  Since thinking over the matter further I am more positive of it than ever.  It was an awful thing to do.”

“The person must have known that we could get away,” suggested Harriet.  “I believe it was done to spite Mr. Grubb.”

“To spite me!” shouted Janus.  “What do you mean?”

“I believe the planks were taken up so that you couldn’t get across the bridge with your horses and wagon.  I think whoever did it wished to make you lose your horses and carry-all as well as our stuff.  If it was our mysterious enemy, then he knew that we could escape.  But how can you get back with your horses?”

“There’s another bridge five miles above here.  I’ll go that way in the morning.  I’ll ride one of the horses and lead the other one.”

Harriet rose and piled more wood on the campfire.  She then began laying out the sections of their tent, which she laced together.  Janus stepped over to her.

“You sit down, Miss.  We will do that,” he insisted.  Jim was sent out to cut some poles for the tent, Janus in the meantime smoothing off a space on the ground on which to pitch the tent.  The canvas was still quite wet.  Examination of the blankets showed that these had not yet dried out sufficiently to make them fit for use.  “I guess you’ll have to sit up and wait for the things to dry out,” declared the guide.  He was troubled over what had happened as well as what had been said that evening.  Janus, too, was still thinking of the description given him of Miss Elting’s caller.  He thought he knew whom that description fitted, all except the beard.  It was the beard that spoiled the picture he had in mind.  He pondered over this all during the time he was working on the tent, pausing now and then to stroke his own beard.

“Don’t worry about it.  We are not afraid,” said a soothing voice at his side.  He glanced around to find Harriet Burrell’s brown eyes smiling up at him.