“Well?” he demanded sharply, “what’s all this?”

“Some one fired a shot,” they explained, somewhat crestfallen.

“It was a trick, you fools,” he answered testily.  “Get back to your prisoner.”

Without a word they turned and hurried toward the house, Del Mar following.  “You two go in,” he ordered the foremost.  “I’ll go around the house with Patrick.”

As Del Mar and the other man ran around the corner, they could just catch a fleeting glimpse on some one disappearing among the trees.

It was Elaine.

The man hurried forward, blazing away with his gun.

Running, breathless, Elaine heard the shot behind her which Del Mar’s man had fired in his eagerness.  The bullet struck a tree near her with a “ping!” She glanced back and saw the man.  But she did not stop.  Instead, she redoubled her efforts, running zigzag in among the trees where they were thickest.

Del Mar, a little bit behind his man where she could not recognize him, urged the man on, following carefully.

On fled Elaine, her heart beating fast.  Suddenly she stopped and almost cried out in vexation.  A stream blocked her retreat, a stream, swift and deep.

She looked back, terrified.  Her pursuers were coming ahead fast now in her direction.  Wildly she gazed around.  There was a canoe on the bank.  In an instant she jumped in, untied it, and seized the paddle.  Off she went, striking for the opposite shore.  But the current was racing swiftly, and she was already tired and exhausted.  She could scarcely make any headway at all in the fierce eddies.  But at least, she thought hurriedly, she was getting further and further away from them down-stream.

Up above, Del Mar and his man came to the edge of the water.  There they stood for a moment looking down.

“There she is,” pointed the man.

Del Mar raised his revolver and fired.

Suddenly a bullet struck Elaine’s paddle and broke it.  Clutching the useless splintered shaft, she was now at the mercy of the current, swept along like a piece of driftwood.

She looked about frantically.  What was that roaring noise?

It was the waterfalls ahead!

. . . . . . .

In the meantime, Del Mar’s other two men had entered the house and had run up-stairs, knowing well his wrath if anything had happened.  As they did so, the naturalist poked his head cautiously out of the kitchen where he had been hiding, and saw them.  Then he followed noiselessly, his revolver ready.

Headlong they ran into the room where they had left Elaine.  She was gone!

Before they could turn, the naturalist locked the door, turned and took the steps down, two at a time.

Then he ran out of the front door and into the woods at an angle to the direction taken by Elaine, turning and going down hill, where a rapid, swollen stream curved about through a gorge.  As he reached the stream, he heard a shot above, and a scream.