He spoke of it with respect, but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how could he feel enthusiasm when he must begin his chase after fortune with bare hands ?--he suffered acutely whenever it was mentioned.

The days, like any other days, dwindled.

The end of it all was close at hand.

Another twenty-four hours and Carrington reflected there would only be good-by to say.
"We will reach New Madrid to-night," he told her.

They were watching the river, under a flood of yellow moonlight.
"And then just another day--Oh, I can hardly wait!" cried Betty delightedly.