Her wild blood raced with the joy of her triumph over the factor from Lac Bain.

She saw him again, floundering about in the pool--pictured him at the cabin now, soaked and angry, demanding of mon pere where she had gone.

And mon pere, with a shrug of his shoulders, was telling him that he didn't know--that probably she had run off into the forest.

It did not enter into her head that in tricking Bush McTaggart in that way she was playing with dynamite.

She did not foresee the peril that in an instant would have stamped the wild flush from her face and curdled the blood in her veins--she did not guess that McTaggart had become for her a deadlier menace than ever.
Nepeese knew that he must be angry.