give to Vos Engo when he took her to him to-morrow.
To-morrow! This was the 26th! Would there be a to-morrow for any of
them--for Vos Engo, for Tullis, for the Prince? For _her_?

"There will be time to warn them in the morning," he thought, dulled by
fatigue. "We can't go on now."

"Truxton," he heard her saying, tremulously, "do you think we can do
anything for them--the Prince and those who are with him? How can we lie
here when there is so much to be done?"

"When the storm abates--when we are rested--we will try to get away
from here. Those devils know that I will give the alarm. They will have
hundreds of men watching to head us off. It means everything to them.
You see, I know their plans. But, Loraine, dear little girl, brave as
you are and willing as I am, we can't go on until we've pulled ourselves
together. We're safe here for awhile. Later on, we'll try to steal up to
the city. They will be watching every approach to the Castle and to the
Tower, hoping to stop me in time. We must out-fox them again. It will be
harder, too, little girl. But, if I don't do any more, I pledge you that
I'll save you from Marlanx."

"Oh, I know you will. You must, Truxton."

"I'd--I'd like to be sure that I am also saving you from Vos Engo. I
hate to think of you throwing yourself away on one of these blithering,
fortune-hunting noblemen." She pressed his arm again. "By Jove, it's
great fun being a hero, after all--and it isn't so difficult, if the
girl helps you as you helped me. It's too bad I couldn't do it all by
myself. I have always counted on rescuing you from an Ogre's castle or
something of that sort. It's rather commonplace as it is, don't you
think?"

"I don't--know what--you're talking about," she murmured. Then she was
fast asleep.

The storm raged; savage bursts of wind rocked the little freight car;
the rain hissed viciously against their frail hotel; thunder roared and
lightning rent sky and earth. The weary night-farers slept with
pandemonium dinning in their ears.

He sat with his back against the side of the car, a, pistol in one hand,
the other lying tenderly upon the drenched hair of the girl whose head
rested upon his leg. She had slipped down from his shoulder; he did not
have the desire or the energy to prevent it. At his side lay the
discarded whiskers. Manfully as he had fought against the impelling
desire to sleep, he could not beat it off. His last waking thought was
of the effort he must mak