Washington, with his ears muffled, failed to hear her coming, nor had she given the little colored boy a thought until she planked a foot down on his neck.
Wash uttered a yell and leaped to his feet, for the second time that night bowling Grace over and darting deeper into the bush.
"Oh, that impossible boy!" complained Grace.

"He nearly frightened me out of my wits.

The firing has stopped.

I must know what has happened." Grace crept on cautiously, listening intently, not knowing what moment she might come upon the mountaineer.

Either he had been hit or he was still stalking the camp, and she must settle the question in her mind before she would feel safe to settle down for the night.
"Is that you, Grace ?" demanded a low, guarded voice just ahead of her.
"Oh, yes! Gracious, Tom, you gave me a start that time! Where is the man ?" "Gone away." "Was it you who shot at him ?" "No.