tle fortune in itself," returned the other,
carefully tying them up. "I'd be a fool to leave these."

Neither saw, so intent were they on what they were doing, the door of
Wilkins' room swing slowly open, and a white-robed figure, bearing a
night-lamp, glide ghost-like toward them. So feeble was the light it
held, it scarcely served to reveal the way, and one trembling foot
struck against a store stool, making sufficient noise to attract the
attention of the robbers. They both turned suddenly, the light of their
lantern fell that way, and they stood face to face with Guly.

In an instant Clinton's hand was on his dagger; it rose glittering high
in air, and aimed at Guly's heart, descended with a fearful plunge
toward that pure young breast.

"Murderer!" cried a voice behind him, and a counter blow from a well
directed hand, sent the instrument of death clattering upon the floor.

At the sound of that voice, though it had come from beneath a mask, Guly
uttered a cry of anguish a thousand times more heart-rending than would
have been a death cry, and sank senseless upon the floor, the lamp going
out in its fall.

Trembling with horror, Arthur felt himself pushed forward by Clinton's
strong hand in wild haste to the window. Self-preservation was strong
within him, he bolted through, Clinton followed, and they once more
stood in the street.

"We'll take care of the bags," whispered Clinton, hurriedly, to Arthur;
"you fly up that alley, get you to bed, and take care of yourself,
you'll only hinder us if you go along--pull off your boots."

Loaded with their booty, Clinton and Quirk passed away like shadows in
the stormy darkness, and bewildered, yet aware of the stern necessity
for obeying Clinton's advice, Arthur drew off his boots and darted like
light up the alley, noiselessly unlocked the small door, fastened it,
and once more breathed in his own room. Quick as thought he rinsed the
mud from his boots in some water he knew where to find, turned the India
rubber cloak wrong side out and hung it on the peg whence he had taken
it, undressed, all in that to him fearful darkness, and once more sought
his pillow, without causing a break in the loud snoring of Jeff who
still slumbered on his mattress, unconscious of the trouble soon to fall
on his devoted head.

Clasping his hands upon his wildly beating heart, Arthur lay still to
listen for any sound to indicate that life had returned to Guly, or that
Wilkins had awak