in the door with a gun leveled at two other men, who
stood there frightened, speechless.

"Git a move on, Bill," called this fellow; and he took a hasty glance
backward. A stamp of hoofs came from outside. Of course the robbers had
horses waiting. The one called Bill strode across the room, and with
brutal, careless haste began to prod the two men with his weapon and to
search them. The robber in the doorway called "Rustle!" and disappeared.

Duane wondered where the innkeeper was, and Colonel Longstreth and the
other two passengers. The bearded robber quickly got through with his
searching, and from his growls Duane gathered he had not been well
remunerated. Then he wheeled once more. Duane had not moved a muscle,
stood perfectly calm with his arms high. The robber strode back with his
bloodshot eyes fastened upon the girls. Miss Longstreth never flinched,
but the little girl appeared about to faint.

"Don't yap, there!" he said, low and hard. He thrust the gun close to
Ruth. Then Duane knew for sure that he was no knight of the road, but a
plain cutthroat robber. Danger always made Duane exult in a kind of cold
glow. But now something hot worked within him. He had a little gun in
his pocket. The robber had missed it. And he began to calculate chances.

"Any money, jewelry, diamonds!" ordered the ruffian, fiercely.

Miss Ruth collapsed. Then he made at Miss Longstreth. She stood with
her hands at her breast. Evidently the robber took this position to
mean that she had valuables concealed there. But Duane fancied she had
instinctively pressed her hands against a throbbing heart.

"Come out with it!" he said, harshly, reaching for her.

"Don't dare touch me!" she cried, her eyes ablaze. She did not move. She
had nerve.

It made Duane thrill. He saw he was going to get a chance. Waiting had
been a science with him. But here it was hard. Miss Ruth had fainted,
and that was well. Miss Longstreth had fight in her, which fact helped
Duane, yet made injury possible to her. She eluded two lunges the man
made at her. Then his rough hand caught her waist, and with one pull
ripped it asunder, exposing her beautiful shoulder, white as snow.

She cried out. The prospect of being robbed or even killed had not
shaken Miss Longstreth's nerve as had this brutal tearing off of half
her waist.

The ruffian was only turned partially away from Duane. For himself
he could have waited no longer. But for her! That gun was still held