herself or by the others. Gifted with a mighty close mouth, she had
nevertheless confided to Hammersmith that she could tell things and
would, if he brought her face to face with the man who tried to shoot
him while he was helping her down from the roof. Would her indignation
hold out under the insinuating smile with which the artful rascal
awaited her words? It gave every evidence of doing so, for her eye
flashed threateningly and her whole body showed the tension of extreme
feeling as she came hastily forward, and pausing just beyond the reach
of his arm, cried out:

"You had a hand in locking me in. You're tired of me. If you're not, why
did you fire those bullets my way? I was escaping and----"

Jake thrust in a quick word. "That was Quimby's move--locking your door.
He had some game up. I don't know what it was. I had nothing to do with
it."

This denial seemed to influence her. She looked at him and her breast
heaved. He was good to look at; he must have been more than that to one
of her restricted experience. Hammersmith trembled for the success of
their venture. Would this blond young giant's sturdy figure and
provoking smile prevail against the good sense which must tell her that
he was criminal to the core, and that neither his principle nor his love
were to be depended on? No, not yet. With a deepening flush, she flashed
out:

"You hadn't? You didn't want me dead? Why, then, those bullets? You
might have killed me as well as Mr. Hammersmith when you fired!"

"Huldah!" Astonishment and reproach in the tone and something more than
either in the look which accompanied it. Both were very artful and
betrayed resources not to be expected from one of his ordinarily
careless and good-humoured aspect. "You haven't heard what I've said
about that?"

"What could you say?"

"Why, the truth, Huldah. I saw you on the roof. The fire was near. I
thought that neither you nor the man helping you could escape. A death
of that kind is horrible. I loved you too well to see you suffer. My gun
was behind the barn door. I got it and fired out of mercy."

She gasped. So, in a way, did the two officials. The plea was so
specious, and its likely effect upon her so evident.

"Jake, can I believe you?" she murmured.

For answer, he fumbled in his pocket and drew out a small object which
he held up before her between his fat forefinger and thumb. It was a
ring, a thin, plain hoop of gold worth possibly a couple of dollars, b