When Freckles said she had not yet come, the Boss at once gave orders to stop work on the tree until she arrived; for he felt that she virtually had located it, and if she desired to see it felled, she should.

As the men stepped back, a stiff morning breeze caught the top, that towered high above its fellows.

There was an ominous grinding at the base, a shiver of the mighty trunk, then directly in line of its fall the bushes swung apart and the laughing face of the Angel looked on them.
A groan of horror burst from the dry throats of the men, and reading the agony in their faces, she stopped short, glanced up, and understood.
"South!" shouted McLean.

"Run south!" The Angel was helpless.

It was apparent that she did not know which way south was.