. She's offered to go too.
It may save their lives, for, from what Conlon said, they're badly hurt,
both of them."

"Has the gold gone?" Wallace asked.

"I reckon so, though there's no saying until we hear what has happened.
But it looks like a bad case of sticking the place up and trying to
murder the inmates. Hullo, there's Mr. Gale calling. He's got his buggy.
There's a seat to spare if either of you like to go."

"You'd be of more use than I should, Harding," Wallace said.

"Yes, I'll go," the younger man replied.

Mrs. Eustace came running into the room, her arms full of bottles and
bandages.

"I haven't stopped to sort them out--I'll take all I've got," she
exclaimed breathlessly.

"I will put them in the buggy while you get a cloak. I am coming with
you," Harding said, as he took the articles from her and carried them
out to Gale's buggy, which was drawn up outside the bank.

"You had better bring them here; it's quieter and more roomy than any
other place in the town," Wallace said to Brennan when they were alone.

"If they can stand the journey," Brennan said under his breath. "I've
told Conlon to ride back and let us know; I'll have to stay here."

"Then I'll tell Harding."

He reached the front door as Harding was returning, after having packed
the things Mrs. Eustace had given him in the buggy. At the same moment
Mrs. Eustace tripped down the stairs and ran across the hall.

"You had better bring them here," he began when she turned quickly
towards him.

"Bring them here? Mr. Wallace, do you want to kill them? If they are
badly injured it would be fatal to move them this distance. I will send
word back at once, but if the doctor comes before you hear, send him on.
Now, I'm ready."

She went out with Harding at her side.

"I am so glad to have you with me," she said softly. "It is good of you
to come."

He helped her into the buggy without speaking, though the clinging touch
of her hand thrilled him. He had known her as a light-hearted girl, full
of frolicsome impulses and mischievous tricks, and had loved her with a
passion that kept her ever before him. He had seen her when that
love-lit image had been veiled by the gloom of seeming disillusion. He
had seen her striving to sacrifice herself in order to shield the man
who had blighted her life, and he had seen her as a man loves best to
see the woman he reveres, throw aside the conventional reserve for him
to learn the innermost secret o