as looking at the door and did not see the man move back half-way
up the stairs as silently as he came.

Once more a hoarse shout rose from outside: "Open that door before we
break it in!"

For a moment or two, as if to give point to the warning, the door creaked
and rattled as the axe-heads beat upon it, and then the din ceased
suddenly, for Grant, who recognized the voice, raised his hand.

"Open it for them," he said, so loudly that he could be heard outside.

Breckenridge was almost glad to obey. It would have pleased him better to
have taken his place, rifle in hand, with the cook on the stairway, but
since Grant had evidently determined not to oppose the assailants'
entrance by violence, it was a relief to do anything that would terminate
the suspense. Still, his heart throbbed painfully as he seized the bolt,
and he glanced round once more in what he felt was futile protest. Grant,
who evidently saw what he was thinking in his face, only smiled a little
and signed with his hand.

Breckenridge drew the bolt, and sprang backwards as the door swung open.
Men with axes and rifles showed up in the light; but while here and there
an axe flashed back a twinkling gleam, or a face shone white, the rest was
blurred and shadowy, and he could only see hazy figures moving against the
blackness of the night. His companion was standing alone in the middle of
the hall, motionless and impassive, with nothing in his hands.

"Now," he said, in a voice that jarred on Breckenridge's ears, "the door
is open. What do you want?"

"We want you," said one of the men outside.

"Then, I'll come out and talk to you," said Grant.

Breckenridge laid a restraining hand upon his arm, but he shook it off,
and moving forward stopped just outside the threshold. The lad could not
see his face, but he noticed that he stood very straight, with his head
thrown back a trifle, and that one or two of those without edged farther
into the shadowy crowd. Glancing behind him, he also saw the cook leaning
forward on the stairway with the rifle glinting in his hands.

"Well?" said Grant, and his voice rang commandingly.

"We have come for the dollars," said a man. "We want them, and they're
ours."

"Then, you must ask your committee for them. They are not in my house."

"Bluff!" said somebody; and an angry clamour broke out.

"Hand them out," cried one voice, "before we burn the place for you."

Larry swung up one hand commandingly, and Breckenr