they would variously and mirthfully designate him. They would find
it unusual that King had married her one day and had gone off the next
without her. They would hazard endless unpleasant explanations; they
would get their heads together; they would make an astonishing patchwork
of scraps of distorted rumour and bits of wild speculation.... From
upstairs last night she had heard fragmentary outbursts from the
"judge." "Irregular; no licence." Now Gloria meant to kill the snake
outright, not to allow the scotched reptile to writhe free. She was
married; she was going with her husband into the wilderness on the most
romantic of all honeymoons. The papers were free to make much of that.

"Of course I want you," said King slowly. "Glad? Glad that you want to
come with me? Can't you see that I am the gladdest man on earth?
But----"

"I have already written a message I wanted to send to a girl friend in
San Francisco...." It was to Miss Mildred Carter, who was engaged to be
married to Bob Dwight of the _Chronicle_.... "I was going to have it
phoned in to her. It tells her I'm--married. To you, Mark. And that
we're off on the most wonderful trip together into the heart of the wild
country."

"God bless you," he said heartily. But Gloria, glancing at him swiftly,
saw that his eyes were clouded with perplexity.

"Of course," she said, "if you don't want a girl along----"

"Gloria!"

"Well, then? It's settled? I'm to go?"

"Only I'm afraid it isn't the sort of a trip for a girl. It's hard
going, and--Oh, it's a cursed shame I can't put it off."

"You said last night that you weren't afraid of anything Brodie and his
men could do? That they didn't even know where to go? That they'd never
know where to find you?"

"Yes. And I meant it. But----"

He wanted her with him; she wanted to come. Further, it pained him to
think that those first glorious days should be spent with the mountains
between them. He was tempted, sorely tempted. Gloria knew; she smiled
at him across the table; she tempted him further. ...Was there really
any danger, would there be danger to her? If he thought so, that there
was the faintest likelihood of harm to her, he would say no, no matter
what the yearning in his heart. But if they made a quick dash in and
out; two days each way, not over one day at Gus Ingle's caves? If they
went on horseback nearly all the way, and travelled light? He carried a
rifle nowadays, and he rather believed he might car