Again Philip heard movements above him, and once more he took up
the pursuit. He wondered why Jeanne had not called for help when
the company canoe passed. If she was not hurt or unconscious, her
captors had been forced to hold a handkerchief or a brutal hand
over her mouth, perhaps at her throat! His blood grew hot with
rage at the thought.
For three-quarters of an hour longer the swift paddling up-stream
continued without interruption. Then the river widened into a
small lake, and Philip was compelled to hold back until the two
canoes, which he could see clearly now, had passed over the
exposed area.
By the time he dared to follow, Jeanne's captors were a quarter of
a mile ahead of him. He no longer heard their paddles when he
entered the stream at the upper end of the lake, and he bent to
his work with greater energy and less caution. Five minutes--ten
minutes passed, and he saw nothing, heard nothing. His strokes
grew more powerful and the canoe shot through the water with the
swift cleavage of a knife. A perspiration began to gather on his
face, and a sudden chilling fear entered him. Another five minutes
and he stopped. The river swept out ahead of him, broad and clear,
for a quarter of a mile.
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