chair. At the
sound the three figures broke into a run, and she heard the sash give
way. Almost instantly there was firing. The first shot was close, and
she knew it was Rudolph firing from the window. Some wild design of
braining him from behind with a chair flashed into her desperate mind,
but when she had felt her way into Katie's room he had gone. The garden
below was quiet, but there was yelling and the crackling of underbrush
from the hill-side. Then a scattering of shots again, and silence. The
yard was empty.

The hill paid but moderate attention to shots. They were usually merely
pyrotechnic, and indicated rejoicing rather than death. But here and
there she heard a window raised, and then lowered again. The hill had
gone back to bed. Anna went into her room and dressed. For the first
time it had occurred to her that she might be held by the police, and
the thought was unbearable. It was when she was making her escape that
she found a prostrate figure in the yard, and knew that one of Rudolph's
shots had gone home. She could not go away and leave that, not unless--A
terrible hatred of Herman and Rudolph and all their kind suddenly
swept over her. She would not run away. She would stay and tell all the
terrible truth. It was her big moment, and she rose to it. She would see
it through. What was her own safety to letting this band of murderers
escape? And all that in the few seconds it took to reach the fallen
figure. It was only when she was very close that she saw it was moving.

"Tell Dunbar he went to the left," a voice was saying. "The left!
They'll lose him yet."

"Joey!"

"Hello," said Joey's voice. He considered that he was speaking very
loud, but it was hardly more than a whisper. "That wasn't your father,
was it? The old boy couldn't jump and run like that."

"Are you hurt?"

He coughed a little, a gurgling cough that rather startled himself. But
he was determined to be a man.

"No. I just lay down here for a nap. Who was it that jumped?"

"My cousin Rudolph. Do you think I can help you into the house?"

"I'll walk there myself in a minute. Unless your cousin Rudolph--" His
head dropped back on her arm. "I feel sort of all in." His voice trailed
off.

"Joey!"

"Lemme alone," he muttered. "I'm the first casualty in the American
army! I--" He made a desperate effort to speak in a man's voice, but the
higher boyish notes of sixteen conquered. "They certainly gave us hell
to-night. But we're g