As she asked herself these questions, an idea flashed into her mind which caused the blood to fade from her cheeks and her hands to tremble. She tried to banish the notion as she replaced the letter into its envelope and laid it upon a small table by her bed. But the idea would persist in returning until she could no longer resist its appeal.
For the space of a half-hour she debated with herself as to what she should do. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning before seeing the man again. This, however, did not satisfy her. Several times she started to open the door, but each time drew back, uncertain and agitated. She was no coward, yet the thought of what might be revealed unnerved her. Nevertheless, she knew that the ordeal must be faced sooner or later. For that she had come north, and with one object in view she had visited numerous creeks and mining camps. But never before had such a nameless dread overwhelmed her. She had searched eagerly, and hopefully, studying with the closest scrutiny the one face which would reward all her efforts.
At length feeling that she could delay no longer, she left her room, and sped along the hallway. She felt guilty, almost like a thief, as she pushed open the kitchen door and looked in. The man was evidently sound asleep, for he was lying in the same position as when she first saw him. Creeping close to his side, she stooped and listened. Yes, he was asleep and breathing heavily. Reaching swiftly out, she lifted the peak of his cap, and at once the white lock of hair was exposed to view. Marion had seen enough. She turned and fled out of the kitchen, along the hall, and back to the shelter of her room. Here she stood, wide-eyed and panting like a hunted creature. She had
