which
roused so much curiosity in her sister, was open. The drawers were
unlocked, and Kate was sorting out papers, and collecting the loose
paper money she kept there.

She was very busy and profoundly occupied. But none of her movements
were hurried, or suggested anything but the simple preparations of one
about to leave home.

Her work did not take her long. All the loose money was collected into
a pocketbook, bearing her initials in silver on its outer cover. This
she bestowed in the bosom of her dress. Then, very deliberately, she
tore up a lot of letters and loose papers, thrust them in the
cookstove, and watched them burn in the fragment of fire smouldering
there. Next she passed across to the wall where her loaded revolvers
were hanging, and took one of them from its nail. Then, with an air of
perfect calm and assurance, she passed out of the room to her bedroom,
where a grip lay open on the simple white coverlet of her bed.

Her packing was proceeded with leisurely. Yet the precision of her
movements and the certainty with which she understood her needs made
the process rapid.

Everything was completed. The grip was full to overflowing. She stood
looking at it speculatively. She was assuring herself that nothing
was forgotten for her few days' sojourn away from home.

In the midst of her contemplation she abruptly raised her eyes to the
window and inclined her head in an attitude of listening. A sound had
reached her, a sound which had nothing to do with the two puppies,
or the hens, outside. It was a sound that brought a swift, alert
expression into her handsome eyes, the look of one who belongs to a
world where the unusual is generally looked upon with suspicion.

A moment later she was peering out of the window into the radiant
sunlight. The sound was plainer now, and she had recognized it. It was
the sound of a horse galloping, and approaching her home.

Still the doubtful questioning was in her eyes.

She left the window and passed out of the room. The next moment she
was standing in the doorway at the back of the house, and in front of
her stood the wagon that was to bear her to Myrtle. The slumberous pup
was on its feet standing alertly defiant. Its brother was already
yapping truculently in its baby fashion. The old hen had abandoned its
search for more delectable provender, and had fled incontinently.

A horseman dashed up to the house. He had ignored the front door and
made straight for th