noon
When Tom Brixton had descended the river some eight or ten miles he deemed himself pretty safe from his pursuers , at least for the time being , as his rate of progress with the current far exceeded the pace at which men could travel on foot ; and besides , there was the strong probability that , on reaching the spot where the canoe had been entered and the bag of gold left on the bank , the pursuers would be partially satisfied as well as baffled , and would return home . On reaching a waterfall , therefore , where the navigable part of the river ended and its broken course through Bevan 's Gully began , he landed without any show of haste , drew the canoe up on the bank , where he left it concealed among bushes , and began quietly to descend by a narrow footpath with which he had been long familiar . Up to that point the unhappy youth had entertained no definite idea as to why he was hurrying towards the hut of Paul Bevan , or what he meant to say for himself on reaching it . But towards noon , as he drew near to it , the thought of Betty in her innocence and purity oppressed him . She rose before his mind 's eye like a reproving angel . How could he ever face her with the dark stain of a mean theft upon his soul ? How could he find courage to confess his guilt to her ?