will do. Suicide, mayhap. Many is the time I
have cautioned her not to ride in the hills without a strong guard.
These bandits are getting very bold."

"Do you know the great Count Marlanx?" demanded King, possessed of a
sudden thought. The man faced him at the mention of the name, a
suspicious gleam in his eyes.

"Count Marlanx!" he snorted. Without another word, he drew the beasts to
a standstill. There was no mistaking the angry scowl. "Are you friends
of that snake? If you are, get out of my cart."

"He's all right," cried Truxton. "Tell him who we are, Loraine, and why
we _must_ get to the city."

Five minutes later, the farmer, overcome by the stupendous news, was
lashing his oxen with might and main; the astonished beasts tore down
the road to Ronn so bravely that there seemed some prospect of getting a
telegram through in time. All the way the excited countryman groaned and
swore and sputtered his prayers. At Ronn they learned that the operator
had been unable to call Edelweiss since seven o'clock. The wires were
down or had been cut. Truxton left a message to be sent to Dangloss in
case he could get the wire, and off they started again for the city
gates, having lost considerable time by the diverted mile or two.

Not man, woman or child did they encounter as the miles crept by. The
country was barren of humanity. Ahead of them was the ascent to be
conquered by oxen so old and feeble that the prospect was more than
dubious.

"If it should be that my team gives out, I will run on myself to give
the alarm," cried the worthy, perspiring charioteer. "It shall not be!
God preserve us!"

Three times the oxen broke down, panting and stubborn; as many times he
thwacked them and kicked them and cursed them into action again. They
stumbled pitifully, but they _did_ manage to go forward.

In time the city gates came in sight--far up the straight, narrow road.
"Pray God we may not be too late," groaned the farmer. "Damn the swine
who took their horses to town before the sun was up. Curse them for
fools and imbeciles. Fools never get into heaven. Thank the good Lord
for that."

It seemed to the quivering Americans that the gates were mocking them by
drawing farther away instead of coming nearer.

"Are we going backward?" groaned Truxton, his hands gripping the side of
the bounding seat.

Near the gates, which were still open, it occurred to him in a single
flash of dismay that he and Loraine would be recognis