Five Thousand Dollars Reward | Page 2

to him and bent to press his bearded lips to her cheek.
On the instant another person appeared upon the scene.
A bunch of bones collided with the bull neck of the tramp, sending him reeling across the floor.
Victoria darted to the arms of the new-comer, a young man, tall, slender and of prepossessing appearance, clad in hunter's costume.
"Oh, August, save me!" screamed the girl.
"Scoundrel!" cried the young hunter, presenting a rifle at the breast of the tramp. "What do you mean by this assault on a lady?"
There was a horrible expression in the eyes of the tramp, and on the instant he slipped from concealment a large knife to his hand.
"Stand aside, Miss Vane," the hunter said to the girl. "I will learn this scoundrel a lesson."
Victoria obeyed, standing back against the wall, pale and frightened, while the last comer confronted the burly tramp with his rifle cocked for instant use.
"Let me go out, August Bordine."
So the tramp seemed to recognize the youthful hunter.
"I ought to turn you over to the authorities for punishment," declared the young man, sternly.
"'T won't do you no good," grunted the tramp, "I hain't done nothing."
"I will leave it to Miss Vane."
Then he glanced at the girl.
The tramp began to glide toward the door.
"Stop!" thundered August Bordine. Then to the girl, "Miss Vane, I await your decision."
"Permit him to go then. I wish no further trouble," said Victoria.
"But he really ought to be punished. He certainly deserves ninety days in prison at the least," declared the young hunter.
"Let me go, Miss, I didn't mean nothin' wrong," whined the man who had called himself Perry Jounce.
"Let him go," said Victoria.
The hunter lowered his gun and the tramp passed into the outer air. He hurriedly left the vicinity, but before he had passed from sight, he turned his face toward the cottage, and shook a chinched hand toward the open door in which stood two forms--Victoria and August Bordine.
"Curse you, August Bordine!" hissed the coarse lips. "I'll make you repent this interference, I swear I will. You shall swing some day, and I'll be there to hear your neck crack!"
Then he turned about and disappeared in a clump of trees beside the road.
Victoria Vane and the young hunter were near enough to notice the movement of the baffled tramp, but neither heard his vindictive words. It might have been well for them had they done so.
Victoria clung to the young hunter's arm after the departure of Jounce, and seemed a long time in recovering from her fright.
"There's no further danger," declared Bordine, "so just calm your fears. I will remain until your brother returns."
"You are very kind, August."
After a little the young man quietly disengaged her hands from his arm and led her to a seat.
"There, rest yourself, Victoria, while I look about the premises."
He snatched his gun and moved toward the door.
"Don't leave me, August."
"There is not the least danger now. That tramp will not return."
"He may."
"I will not be far away. If you were so fearful why did you not permit me to take him to prison?"
"I don't know. I did not wish to appear against him, I suppose."
August Bordine smiled at the look that came to the face of the girl.
He had known Victoria Vane and her brother for several months. He was never prepossessed in favor of her brother, and he often thought her "soft," to use a vulgar expression.
"I do believe the girl would make love to me if I would permit it, by giving her the least encouragement. The Vanes are queer and no mistake," remarked Bordine, to a young lady of his acquaintance, living in an adjoining town.
Rose Alstine was plain and sensible, and took no offense at her lover's referring to Miss Vane. Why should she? She knew that genial August Bordine was true as steel and generous and sympathetic to a fault.
Trouble was coming, however, that was to try the young girl's faith as it had never been tried before.
Back of Ridgewood village was a forest of large extent, bordering on a narrow stream. This woods was owned by an Eastern capitalist and he had as yet permitted no woodman's ax to resound in its depths.
Game abounded, and the woods was the frequent resort for amateur hunters, among them the young civil engineer, August Bordine.
It was his frequent visits to Eastman's woods with gun and game-bag that brought him in frequent contact with the Vanes, and especially Victoria, who, during the short space of a few months, had become violently smitten with the handsome face and gentlemanly bearing of the young engineer.
It was this fact that determined Bordine to shorten his stay at the cottage on the day in question.
"There isn't the least danger," assured August, as he lifted his gun to the hollow of his arm and prepared