But presently they were out in the open again, as evidenced by the
snow and the brisker atmosphere, and Helen shrewdly observed to
herself:
"That was a tunnel, I bet anything."
Two hundred feet farther up another gentle incline they reached a
place of habitation and entered. Helen had no idea as to the
appearance of the exterior, but when the bandage was removed from her
eyes, and she was able to look about her, she made a clever surmise,
not very far from the truth, that she was in a log cabin.
Every inch of the walls and ceiling, except the windows and doors,
was plastered. The doors and windows were fitted in the crudest kind
of casing. A few unframed, colored pictures were pasted on the walls.
The furniture of the room consisted of a few chairs, a table and an
old trunk. A kerosene lamp on the table lighted the room.
"Here's one of them, Mag," said Bill, addressing a large, coarse
featured, but remarkably shrewd-eyed woman who opened the door and
received them. "Can you keep her safe?"
"You bet your bottom dollar I can keep her safe as long as there is
any dough in it for me," was the reply in almost a man's voice.
"Well, get into good practice on this one a-keepin' prisoners," the
first speaker advised.
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