ner then, and dragging Bozeman to his feet,
started out of the cross-cut with them. Harry's carbide pointing the
way through the blind door and into the main tunnel. Then they halted
to bundle themselves tighter against the cold blast that was coming
from without. On--to the mouth of the mine. Then they stopped--short.

A figure showed in the darkness, on horseback. An electric flashlight
suddenly flared against the gleam of the carbide. An exclamation, an
excited command to the horse, and the rider wheeled, rushing down the
mountain side, urging his mount to dangerous leaps, sending him
plunging through drifts where a misstep might mean death, fleeing for
the main road again. Anita Richmond screamed:

"That's Maurice! I got a glimpse of his face! He 's gotten away--go
after him somebody--go after him!"

But it was useless. The horseman had made the road and was speeding
down it. Rushing ahead of the others, Fairchild gained a point of
vantage where he could watch the fading black smudge of the horse and
rider as it went on and on along the rocky road, finally to reach the
main thoroughfare and turn swiftly. Then he went back to join the
others.

"He 's taken the Center City road!" came his announcement. "Is there a
turn-off on it anywhere?"

"No." Anita gave the answer. "It goes straight through--but he 'll
have a hard time making it there in this blizzard. If we only had
horses!"

"They would n't do us much good now! Climb on my back as you did on
Harry's. You can handle these two men alone?" This to his partner.
The Cornishman grunted.

"Yes. They won't start anything. Why?"

"I 'm going to take Miss Richmond and hurry ahead to the sheriff's
office. He might not believe me. But he 'll take her word--and that
'll be sufficient until you get there with the prisoners. I 've got to
persuade him to telephone to Center City and head off the Rodaines!"

CHAPTER XXIV

He stooped and Anita, laughing at her posture, clambered upon his back,
her arms about his neck, arms which seemed to shut out the biting blast
of the blizzard as he staggered through the high-piled snow and
downward to the road. There he continued to carry her; Fairchild found
himself wishing that he could carry her forever, and that the road to
the sheriff's office were twenty miles away instead of two. But her
voice cut in on his wishes.

"I can walk now."

"But the drifts--"

"We can get along so much faster