no way out. Let's stay with the sheep—and see it through."
But still the animal entreated. The fire raged and roared, burning slowly on the descents, leaping with incredible fury as it mounted the ridges, advancing steadily down the floor of the valley. East, west, south and north,—everywhere a wall of flame. There was no way out. Yet he could not doubt the urgency of this appeal. And all at once the instinct came to answer it.
Perhaps it was because of his abiding faith in the animal's intelligence, perhaps just that in this final hour he knew that any miracle might come to pass. He sprang up, and he didn't try to keep up with the dog at a walking pace. He ran from the first step.
The dead logs across the trail, the hills and steeps, the narrow passes between the walls of brush did not check his pace at all. The air surged into his lungs in great sobs, his muscles ached and burned as if the flames had already reached them. He knew—by token of a clear voice within himself—that he was running for a life—one that was very dear to him and must be saved at all cost.
Her arms still pinioned, Alice sat waiting for the end. It was hard to be brave in the ever-nearing presence of the flames. If there had been a cheering word from one she loved, one touch of a friendly hand, the moments
