in just before the rising water closed the entrance, thus securing
himself from intrusion; and then, when the tide fell away, to come out
ready to start. The day and hour came and he entered the cave.

Unknown to him the Indian followed!

Wolf lighted a lamp and sat down. When the sea had closed the entrance,
no sound entered. Wolf waited. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed, and
all sound of the ocean ceased. He believed himself alone. He lighted the
other lamp, placing both on the flat rock. Then he went to the rocking
stone, and pushing it back, took from the niche, one by one, the bags of
coin. These he carried to the table stone and poured their contents into
a glittering pile.

From behind a rock a pair of sinister eyes watched him!

He felt that he had two hours of absolute seclusion and need not hurry.
He began to slowly pile the coins in little stacks and count them. There
was no reason for haste and he counted carefully. He enjoyed this beyond
all else in his vile life, and desired to prolong the pleasure. The
money was all his, and he gloated over it. No sense of awe at his
separation from all things human in that damp, silent cavern, still as a
tomb, came over him. No thought of the murder he was soon to commit; no
feeling of remorse, no impulse of good; no thought of the future or of
God--entered his soul. Only the miser's joy of possession. Not a sound
entered the cavern and only the chink of the coin, as he counted it,
disturbed the deathly silence.

Still the sinister eyes watched him from out the darkness!

Stack after stack he piled till all was counted--eight of one thousand
dollars each, and twelve of five hundred dollars, all in gold; and
twenty of one hundred dollars each in silver.

A tall, swarthy form crept noiselessly toward him!

It was the supreme moment of his life, and as he gloatingly gazed on the
stacks glittering in the dim light before him, a delirium of joy hushed
all thought and deadened all sense, even that of hearing.

Nearer and nearer drew the swarthy form!

And as Wolf tasted the sublime ecstasy of a miser's joy, his heaven, his
God, suddenly two cold, massive hands closed tight about his throat. But
men die hard! Even while unable to breathe, and as he writhed and
twisted beneath the awful menace of death bearing him down, his hand
suddenly touched the pistol in his belt! The next instant it was drawn
and fired full against the Indian's breast! Then a shriek of death
a