into the little hall. Two stood guard at the foot of the stairs, and
three crept into the shop.

This night Jo Portugais was sleeping up-stairs, while Charley lay
upon the bench in the tailor-shop. Charley heard the door open, heard
unfamiliar steps, seized his pistol, and, springing up, with his back to
the safe, called out loudly to Jo. As he dimly saw men rush at him,
he fired. The bullet reached its mark, and one man fell dead. At that
moment a dark-lantern was turned full on Charley, and a pistol was fired
pointblank at him.

As he fell, shot through the breast, the man who had fired dropped
the lantern with a shriek of terror. He had seen the ghost of his
brother-in-law-Charley Steele.

With a quaking cry of warning to the others, Billy bolted from the
house, followed by his companions, two of whom were struggling with Jo
Portugais on the stairway. These now also broke and ran.

Jo rushed into the shop, and saw, as he thought, Charley lying dead--saw
the robber dead upon the floor. His master and friend gone, the
conviction seized him that his own time had come. He would give himself
to justice now--but to God's justice, not to man's. The robbers were
four to one, and he would avenge his master's death and give his own
life to do it! It was all the thought of a second. He rushed out after
the robbers, shouting as he ran, to awake the villagers. He heard the
marauders ahead of him, and, fleet of foot, rushed on. Reaching them
as they mounted, he fired, and brought down his man--a shivering
quack-doctor, who, like his leader, had seen a sight in the tailor-shop
that struck terror to his soul. Two of the others then fired at Jo, who
had caught a horse by the head. He fell without a sound, and lay upon
his face--he did not hear the hoofs of the escaping horses nor any
other sound. He had fallen without a pang beside the quackdoctor, whose
medicines would never again quicken a pulse in his own body or any
other.

Behind, in the village, frightened people flocked about the tailor-shop.
Within, Mrs. Flynn and the Notary crudely but tenderly bound up the
dreadful wound in Charley's side, while Rosalie pillowed his head on her
bosom.

With a strange quietness Rosalie gave orders to the Notary and Mrs.
Flynn. There was a light in her eyes--an unnatural light--of strength
and presence of mind. Her hand was steady, and as gently as a mother
with a child she wiped the moist forehead, and poured a little brandy
between