He released her hands, and stepped out into the gloom.

The cheery good-nights of the Blacktons followed him.
And Joanne's good-night was in her eyes--following him until he was gone, filled with their entreaty and their fear.
A hundred yards distant, where the trail split to lead to the camp of the engineers, there was a lantern on a pole.

Here Aldous paused, out of sight of the Blackton bungalow, and in the dim light read again MacDonald's note.
In a cramped and almost illegible hand the old wanderer of the mountains had written: Don't go to cabin.

Culver Rann waiting to kill you.

Don't show yorself in town.