CHAPTER XXVII.
HALLORAN MEETS WITH HIS REWARD.
In an instant after the match had been applied a fiery tongue of flameleaped to the ceiling, lighting the interior of the cabin with ablinding glare of red light.
Seizing his hat, Halloran dashed from the place and down the road, neverpausing until he had reached the fork of the roads. Then he stopped forbreath and looked back over his shoulder.
A high ridge of ground intervened, completely hiding the doomed placefrom his view.
He did not even behold the column of fire and smoke, as he hadanticipated.
"Those old boards are so damp that it will probably take some time toignite them, and there's no use waiting to see that," he muttered. "Iwill be well on my way to the railway station by that time."
He redoubled his speed to get as far away from the scene as possible,for, villain though he was, this was his first actual crime, and hisconscience troubled him a little.
Another mile or more he traversed through the heavy snow; then hesuddenly became conscious that there were rapidly approaching footstepsbehind him.
Great heavens! had Lester Armstrong succeeded in making his escape? No,it could not be. Even if so, he was too weak to run in that rapidfashion. Involuntarily he paused and glanced backward over his shoulder.The next instant a wild, panting cry of mortal terror broke from hislips.
In that backward glance he had beheld a huge black bear, making rapidlytoward the spot where he stood, fairly paralyzed with horror.
It dawned upon him suddenly that only a few days before he had read ofthe escape of one of the most ferocious black bears of the zoologicalgardens, and, though two days had elapsed and men were scouring allparts of the adjacent places, no trace of the animal had been found, andgreat fears were expressed of the grave damage the bear might do beforehe was recaptured.
This was undoubtedly the animal that had escaped which was making towardhim with great leaps and savage growls, as though it had already markedhim for its prey.
His teeth chattered like castanets; his eyes fairly bulged from theirsockets; the breath came in hot gasps from his white lips; his brainreeled, as he took in, in that rapid glance of horror, his awful doom.
Nearer and nearer sounded the hoarse, awful growls; nearer and nearermoved the huge black mass over the white, crunching snow.
The moon was slowly rising over the horizon, rendering all objectsclearly distinct to his frightened gaze.
He was passing through a narrow belt of woodland, and like aninspiration it occurred to him that his only hope of escape lay inclimbing one of the trees and thus outwitting the bear.
He saw with sinking heart that they were scarcely more than saplings,and whether or not they would bear his weight without snapping in twainhe dared not even pause to consider.
With a groan of mortal terror he sprang for the nearest tree. Frightseemed to lend him wonderful strength and agility; he succeeded inreaching the lowest limb as the animal, with glittering eyes and widelydistended jaws, reached the tree.
Up, up, crept Halloran, his teeth chattering, his strength almostleaving him as the animal's roar of baffled rage fell upon his ear.
To and fro bent the sapling under his weight, threatening to snapasunder each moment and cast him into the jaws of the enraged beast.
The hours that followed were of such keen, mortal terror that he vaguelywondered that he did not lose his reason through fright.
With fascinated eyes he watched the antics of the thoroughly enragedanimal. The bear made many efforts to climb the tree in pursuit of hisprey, but the swaying sapling was too slender to give him a hold, andits bark too slippery with its coating of ice to insert the claws, whichhad been clipped quite close, rendering them almost powerless in takinga firm grasp.
The night had closed in intensely cold, and Halloran could feel hiscramped limbs and hands slowly stiffening, but he dared not lose hisgrip.
The moon rose higher and higher in the night sky, shedding a white,clear, bright light over the snow-clad earth.
He knew that the animal was watching his every movement closely, as eachtime he shifted his position brought a savage growl from the bear, whichwas circling round and round the tree, eying him intently.
For long hours this lasted, until the half frozen man, hanging on fordear life to the upper branches of the sapling, thought he should gomad.
With the coming of daylight the bear changed his tactics, lying downdirectly under the tree, still eying his prey with his small, beady,expectant eyes, as though measuring the time that his victim could holdout.
The daylight grew stronger; slowly in the eastern horizon the red sunrose, gilding the white, glistening snow with its rosy light.
Hour by hour it climbed the blue azure height, crossed the zenith, andthen slowly sank behind the western hills, heralding the oncoming ofanother night.
Still the brute, with almost incredible cunning, sat in the sameposition under the tree, watching Halloran's every move.
"God rescue me!" he cried, lifting his white face to the Heaven he hadso offended.
"If I pass another night here I shall go mad--mad!"
He was famished with hunger, numb with cold, and his mouth and throatwere dry with unconquerable thirst.
In those hours of suffering he thought of Lester Armstrong, and of theawful fate he had doomed him to. He realized by his own experience of afew hours what he must have endured, and a bitter groan of remorse brokefrom his clammy lips.
"This is Heaven's punishment," he cried. "Oh, Lester Armstrong. God hassurely avenged you! If I could but atone; if it were to be done overagain, I would have no hand in the atrocious crime that has dyed myhands just as surely as though I had plunged a knife into your heart!"
In his haste on leaving the cabin he had not taken time to secure hisrevolver; he had no weapon; he was doomed to meet the same fate that hehad meted out to Lester Armstrong--starve to death slowly, hour byhour--knowing that when he was too weak to hold longer to the branch hewould fall.
Oh, God in heaven! fall into the gaping jaws of the enraged animal thatwas waiting to receive him.
He had led too wicked a life to pray; he did not know a prayer; he couldonly raise his agonized eyes to the far-off sky, wondering how long hisawful torture could last-how long he would be able to hold out--howlong.
He felt his blood slowly turning to ice in his veins, and slowly andsurely the dusk deepened and the darkness of another night fell over theworld.
Mischievous Maid Faynie Page 27
