eBooks Base 2000

But it was a chime that had rung its
last peal to her senses as she entered the Carquinez Woods, and for the
last week had been as dead to her as a voice from the grave. It was the
voice of her lover--Dick Curson!

CHAPTER V.
The wind was blowing towards the stranger, so that he was nearly upon
her when Teresa first took the alarm. He was a man over six feet in
height, strongly built, with a slight tendency to a roundness of bulk
which suggested reserved rather than impeded energy. His thick beard
and moustache were closely cropped around a small and handsome mouth
that lisped except when he was excited, but always kept fellowship with
his blue eyes in a perpetual smile of half-cynical good-humor. His
dress was superior to that of the locality; his general expression that
of a man of the world, albeit a world of San Francisco, Sacramento, and
Murderer's Bar. He advanced towards her with a laugh and an
outstretched hand.
"_You_ here!" she gasped, drawing back.
Apparently neither surprised nor mortified at this reception, he
answered frankly, "Yeth.


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