Henry glanced around him and saw nothing that promised danger.

It was only another beautiful afternoon in early spring.

The forest glowed in the tender green of the young buds, and, above them arched the sky a brilliant sheet of unbroken blue.

Never did a world look more attractive, more harmless, and it seemed incredible that these woods should contain men who were thirsting for the lives of other men.

But he had seen; he knew; he could not forget that hideous circle of painted faces in the glade, upon which he and Ross had looked from the safe covert of the undergrowth.
"Do you think they'll follow us, Henry ?" asked Paul.
"I don't know," replied Henry, "but it's mighty likely.