of it he swung his cudgel in a wicked blow at this new enemy as he turned to meet it.
The creature dodged back, and the blow that would have crushed its skull grazed a hairbreadth from its face.
Waldo struck no second blow, and the cold sweat sprang to his forehead when he realized how nearly he had come to murdering a young girl. She crouched now in the mouth of the cave, eying him fearfully. Waldo removed his tattered cap, bowing low.
“I crave your pardon,” he said. “I had no idea that there was a lady here. I am very glad that I did not injure you.”
There must have been something either in his tone or manner that reassured her, for she smiled and came out upon the ledge beside him.
As she did so a scarlet flush mantled Waldo’s face and neck and ears—he could feel them burning. With a nervous cough he turned and became intently occupied with the distant scenery.
Presently he cast a surreptitious glance behind him. Shocking! She was still there. Again he coughed nervously.
“Excuse me,” he said. “But—er—ah—you—I am a total stranger, you know; hadn’t you better go back in, and—er—get your clothes?”
She made no reply, and so he forced himself to
