e, and the steady look angered him.

"Still hunting for Winston?" he questioned, sneeringly. "Well, I can
inform you where he may very easily be found."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, out at the 'Little Yankee.' It seems you were a trifle late in
getting him word, or else your fascinations failed to move him. You
must be losing your grip."

She neither moved nor spoke, her eyes--dark, unwinking beneath the wide
hat-brim--telling him nothing. Yet her hand closed upon the pearl
handle hidden away in the jacket pocket, and her lips formed a straight
line.

"I 'm damned sorry you did n't land the fellow, Lizzie," he went on
brutally. "He 's about the best catch you 're liable to get, and
besides, it leaves me a rather unpleasant job. Still, I thought I 'd
better tell you, so you would n't feel it necessary to hang around the
streets here any longer. Fact is, I 'm anxious to shield your
reputation, you know." He looked about carelessly, his glance settling
on the open doors of the Gayety. "Don't strike me this is exactly the
sort of place for one of your moral respectability to be discovered in.
Lord! but what would the old man or that infernal prig of a brother of
yours say, if they could only see you now? A monologue artist at the
Gayety was bad enough, but this, this is the limit."

There was a flash of something white and glittering within six inches
of his face, a sharp click, and an eye looked directly into his own
across a short steel barrel.

"Go!" The word was like the spat of a bullet.

"But, Lizzie--"

"Go, you cur! or, as God is my witness, if you stay I'll kill you!"

With a sharp dig of the spur his horse sprang half-way across the road,
a black, prancing shadow against the glare of light. She saw the rider
fling up one arm, and bring down the stinging quirt on the animal's
flank; the next instant, with a bound, they were swallowed up in the
darkness. A moment she leaned against the shack, nerveless, half
fainting from reaction, her face deathly white. Then she inhaled a
long, deep breath, gathered her skirts closely within one hand, and
plunged boldly into the black alley.

CHAPTER XIII

TWO WOMEN

Mercedes stood in the shade of the towering hillside, the single beam
of light shining from an uncurtained window alone faintly revealing her
slenderness of figure in its red drapery. No other gleam anywhere
cleft the prevailing darkness of the night, and the only perceptible
sound was that