LITMIR.BIZ

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raised fist brought the hunted man’s teeth together with a snap. Then the gesture of Ronicky commanded them to go forward, on foot, leading their horses. He himself went last and acted as the rear guard while they trudged out past the horse-shed—blessing the double night of its shadow!—and up the grade, then swerving around among the trees on the narrow uptrail which would eventually take them over the hills. They came even with the side of the house.

      “Good Lord!” breathed Dawn. “They sure ain’t got up that high already —but—they’s a light in the front room—your room, Jerry!”

      “I left that lamp,” Ronicky Doone told them, grinning. “I thought it’d keep ‘em nice and quiet for a while and make ‘em sneak up to that door slow and easy, slow and easy—then pop! wide goes the door, and they run in and find—nothing!”

      He laughed fiercely, silently—no sound coming save the light catching of his breath.

      “You got a brain,” said the rescued man.

      “Heaven bless you!” whispered his daughter.

      “We can climb the hosses now,” said Ronicky, who seemed to have been admitted into the post of commander. “No danger of being seen. But ride slow. Things that move fast are seen a pile quicker than things that stand still. Now!”

      He gave the example of swinging into the saddle on Lou. The girl, as she imitated, went up lightly as a feather, but Hugh Dawn’s great bulk brought a loud grunt from the gray he bestrode, and the three sat a moment, straining in fear. But there was no sound. The four shadows had melted into the greater shadow of the house.

      They began at a walk. They climbed higher on the swinging trail among the trees until they were above another eminence and looked down. The house seemed as near as ever, the trail had zigzagged so much to make the altitude. They could see the front of the building clearly, and suddenly the light wobbled, flashed to the side, and almost went out; then it grew dimmer in the center of the apartment.

      “They’ve found out the trick,” said Ronicky Doone, speaking in a natural voice and chuckling.

      “Hush!” panted the girl.

      “We can talk out now, long’s we don’t do no shouting. They’ve sprung the trap, and they’ve got nothing! Not a thing!” He laughed again.

      “Thanks to you, partner,” said Hugh Dawn. “Thanks to you, lad!” There was a ring to his low voice.

      The girl added a pleasant grace note to what her father had said: “To think,” she said, “that when you spoke from the door—such a little time ago!—I was paralyzed with fear. I thought you were they. I thought they had come for dad! And—well, every day that he lives from now on, is a day due to you, Mr. Doone; and he will never forget. I will never forget.”

      For some reason that assurance that she would never forget meant more to Ronicky Doone than any assurance from the grown man.

      “Look here,” he said, “you don’t owe nothing to me. It’s Lou that done it. It’s Lou that outfooted their hosses and give me the half hour’s head start. She piled that up inside of twenty miles’ running, too, and after she’d gone a weary way yesterday. Yep, if you got anything to thank, it’s Lou. Me, I just done what anybody’d do. I’ll leave you folks here,” he added, as he got to the top of the crest of the hills with them.

      “Leave us? Oh, no!” cried the girl and added hastily: “But of course. You see, I forget, Mr. Doone. It seems that so many things have happened to the three of us tonight that we are all bound together.”

      “I wish we were,” said Hugh Dawn. “But you got your business, lad. Besides, I bring bad luck. Stay clear of me, or you’ll have the back luck, too!”

      Ronicky’s esteem of the man rose up the scale.

      “Folks,” he said kindly, “I’m one of them with nothing on my hands but a considerable lot of time and an itch for action. Seems to me that there may be some more action before this game’s done and over, and I’d sort of like to horn in and have my say along with you, Dawn—if you want me and need me, I mean!”

      Dawn answered: “It’s on your own head, if you do. Doone, I’m in fear of death. But—need you? Why, man, I have the greatest thing in the world to do, and I’m single-handed in the doing of it. That’s all. But if you’ll take the chance, why, I’ll trust you, and I’ll let you in on the ground floor. But if you come with me, lad, you’ll be taking the chances. You’ll be playing for millions of dollars. But you’ll be putting up your life in the gamble. How does that sound to you? But remember that if you come along with me, you get Jack Moon and his tribe of bloodhounds on your trail, and if they ever come up with you, you’re dead. Understand?”

      “Dad,” cried the girl, “I’m burning with shame to hear you talk—”

      “It’s his concern!” declared her father. “Let him talk out. D’you know what I’m talking about? Millions, girl, millions—not just mere thousands! Millions in bullion!”

      “Millions of fun,” and Ronicky Doone laughed. “That’s what it sounds like to me.”

      “Then,” said the older man eagerly, “suppose we shake on it!”

      “No, no!” cried Jerry Dawn. She even rode in between them.

      “What d’you mean, Jerry?” asked her father impatiently.

      “Oh,” she said, “every one has tried the cursed thing, and every one has gone down; and now you take in the one generous and kind and pure-hearted man who has ever come into our lives. You take him, and you begin to drag him down in the net. Oh, Dad, is this a reward for him? Is this a reward for him?”

      There was almost a sob in her voice.

      “Lady,” said Ronicky Doone, “you’re sure kind, but I’ve made up my mind. Remember that story about Bluebeard’s wife? She had all the keys but one, and she plumb busted her heart because she couldn’t get that one key and see inside that one room. Well, lady, the same’s true with me. Suppose I had the key to everything else in the world and just this one thing was left that I could get at; well, I’d turn down all the other things in the world that I know about and take to this one thing that I don’t know anything about, just because I don’t know it. Danger? Well, lady, danger is the finest bait in the world for any gent like me that’s fond of action and ain’t never been fed full on it. That’s the straight of it.”

      “Then,” said the girl sadly, “Heaven forgive us for bringing this down on your generous heart!” And she drew her horse back.

      The two men reached through the dark night and the rain. Their wet, cold hands fumbled, met, and closed in a hard grasp. It was like a flash of light, that gripping of the hands. It showed them each other’s minds as a glint of light would have shown their faces.

      VI. A PAUSE FOR REST

       Table of Contents

      As the trio plodded on steadily through the night, many things about the father and daughter impressed Ronicky Doone favorably.

      There was something so fine, sat naturally well-bred about their whole attitude, that he felt his heart warming to both; and yet there were reasons enough for him to maintain an attitude of suspicion and caution so far as the pair was concerned. He was calling the girl “Jerry” before the ride was ended; both father and daughter were calling him “Ronicky.” Those were the chief conversational results of the night.

      The ride lasted all the night and well on into the morning. Lou, great- heart that she was, bore up wonderfully. She had the endurance of an Arab horse, and indeed she resembled an Arab in her staunch and tapering build. The big grays struck a hard pace and kept to it, but Lou matched them with her smooth-flowing gait. Her head went down a little as time passed, but when the dawn came, gray and cold

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