looking about, anxiously, and now and then putting his hand to his mouth and giving a long call.
Marjorie answered in a very weak and quavery voice; but he heard her and looked that way. "Come," he called; "I've found the trail," and he pointed down the gorge.
Marjorie shook her head. "No," she called, "I can't."
"But I have to go this way," called the boy.
Marjorie still shook her head, her breath coming in great sobs. "I can't," she called; "Oh, I can't!"
The boy stood still for a moment, then he called again. "You go that way, then," pointing toward the long slope near her. "It isn't so steep;—and I'll meet you at the mouth of the gorge," and waving his hand to her, he turned once more in among the trees of the mountain-side.
Marjorie stood looking after him, her hands tightly clasped and her lips quiver-
