Then
she returned to her post. Some time had elapsed before she was
startled, all at once, by the sound of a stick snapping.
The girl crept to a more favorable position, where she could obtain a
better view of the camp. Then her heart fairly leaped into her throat.
Standing plainly outlined in the flickering light of the campfire was a
man. Harriet studied the man, then slowly slid the barrel of the rifle
into position.
"Stand still! Don't move!" she cried. "I have you covered. If you
move I'll shoot! Hands up!"
The man started, opened his mouth as if he were about to speak, then
quickly raised his hands above his head. There was a half grin of
amusement on the face of the visitor, but Harriet, as she crouched
squinting over the barrel of the captured rifle, failed to notice it.
The light was faint and the man's hat shaded his face.
"Who are you and what do you want here?" she demanded, a trace of
excitement in her tone.
"It's all right, Miss," the man smiled, tilting back his hat and
revealing an open countenance. "I'm the sheriff of the county. I've
been sent to look you up.
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