way flung up
his hand and, clear and vicious above the crackling of the flames, she
heard the short song of a Colt automatic--six shots, so close upon one
another that they were as one prolonged.

There was a spatter of bullets in the sandy ground about them; and then,
with scarcely an appreciable interval, a second flutter of an automatic.
This time the reports came from the pistol in Iff's hand. He was
standing in full glare at the bottom of the veranda steps, aiming with
great composure and precision.

The figure in the doorway reeled as if struck by an axe, swung half-way
round and tottered back into the house. The little man below the veranda
steps delayed only long enough to pluck out the empty clip from the butt
of his pistol and slip another, loaded, into its place. Then with
cat-like agility he sprang up the steps and dived into the furnace-like
interior of the hotel. A third stuttering series of reports saluted
this action, and then there was a short pause ended by a single shot.

"Come," said Staff. He took her arm gently. "Come away...."

Shuddering, she suffered him to lead her a little distance into the
dunes. Here he released her.

"If you won't mind being left alone a few minutes," he said, "I'll go
back and see what's happened. You'll be perfectly safe here, I fancy."

"Please," she said breathlessly--"do go. Yes, please."

She urged him with frantic gestures....

He hurried back to the front of the hotel. By now it was burning like a
bonfire; already, short as had been the time since the overturning of
the lamp, the entire ground floor with the exception of one wing was a
roaring welter of flames, while the fire had leaped up the main
staircase and set its signals in the windows of the upper story.

Iff was standing at some distance from the main entrance, having pushed
his way through the tangle of undergrowth to escape the scorching heat
that emanated from the building. He caught sight of Staff approaching
and waved a hand to him.

"Greetings!" he cried cheerfully, raising his voice to make it heard
above the voice of the conflagration.

"Where's Nelly?"

Staff explained. "But what about Ismay?" he demanded.

Iff grinned and hung his head as if embarrassed, rubbing a handkerchief
over the smoke-stained fingers of his right hand.

"I got him," he said simply.

"You left him in there?"

The little man nodded without reply and turned alertly to engage Mrs.
Clover, who was bearing dow