Mrs.Zane and Betty had heard the Colonel's voice, and sat with white faces, waiting, waiting for they knew not what.
A familiar, light-moccasined tread sounded on the path, a tall figure loomed up from the darkness; it came up the path, passed up the steps, and crossed the threshold.
"Wetzel!" exclaimed Col.

Zane and Capt.Boggs.It was indeed the hunter.

How startling was his appearance! The buckskin hunting coat and leggins were wet, torn and bespattered with mud; the water ran and dripped from him to form little muddy pools on the floor; only his rifle and powder horn were dry.

His face was ghastly white except where a bullet wound appeared on his temple, from which the blood had oozed down over his cheek.

An unearthly light gleamed from his eyes.