sound reached him. Slowly he
pushed up the trapdoor. Nobody was in the room. He crept up, lowered
the door, and replaced the carpet. With his eyes on the window he put
back the furniture where it belonged. Then, revolver in hand, he sat
in one corner of the room and tried to decide what he must do.

Down in the cellar he had been vaguely aware of a dull pain in his
shoulder and a wet, soggy shirt above the place. But the tenseness of
his anxiety had pushed this into the background of his thoughts. Now
again the throbbing ache intruded itself. The fingers of his left hand
searched under his waistcoat, explored a spot that was tender and
soppy, and came forth moist.

He knew he had been shot, but this gave him very little concern. He
had no time to worry about his actual ills, since his whole mind was
given to the fear of those that were impending.

Upon the window there came a faint tapping. The hand with the revolver
jerked up automatically. Every muscle of Beaudry's body grew rigid.
His senses were keyed to a tense alertness. He moistened his lips with
his tongue as he crouched in readiness for the attack about to break.

Again the tapping, and this time with it a quick, low, imperious call.

"Mr. Street. Are you there? Let me in!"

He knew that voice--would have known it among a thousand. In another
moment he had raised the window softly and Beulah Rutherford was
climbing in.

She panted as if she had been running. "They're watching the entrance
to the arroyo. I came up through the canon and across the pasture,"
she explained.

"Did they see you?"

"No. Think not. We must get out of here."

"How?"

"The same way I came."

"But--if they see us and shoot?"

The girl brushed his objection aside. "We can't help that. They know
you're here, don't they?"

"Yes."

"Then they'll rush the house. Come."

Still he hesitated. At least they had the shelter of the house.
Outside, if they should be discovered, they would be at the mercy of
his foes.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked sharply, and she moved toward the
window.

But though he recoiled from going to meet the danger, he could not let
a girl lead the way. Beaudry dropped to the ground outside and stood
ready to lend her a hand. She did not need one. With a twist of her
supple body Beulah came through the opening and landed lightly beside
him.

They crept back to the shadows of the hill and skirted its edge.
Slowly