e would not
forego one tithe of the reward which she believed would help her to
that comfort in life for which her soul yearned.

With the passing of the Vigilantes she moved clear of the bush. She
would see this out. Home? She had no desire for her home. The night
had no terrors for her. Nothing had terror for her, except the failure
of these men.

She flung herself upon the ground and lay with wide eyes searching the
remoteness of the valley beyond. Her impatience had developed into
something almost feverish. She wanted a sign. She wanted assurance.
But the world seemed so still, so entirely peaceful.

The moments pursued for her a sluggish course. The jeweled sky was an
added regret. She desired light, light that she might witness the
whole drama she hoped--yes, hoped--would be played out down there in
the valley. A sort of dementia had taken possession of her. She had
no thought of the blood to be poured out at her bidding. She thought
nothing of the strong lives to be given up in sacrifice for her
well-being. She thought only of herself, and all that the success of
that night's affairs would mean to her.

But the dragging minutes extending upward of half an hour wore her
fever down. And slowly depression replaced her more tense emotions.
It all seemed so long in happening that failure began to loom, and to
become a certainty.

It was too good to hope. Ten thousand dollars! The amount bulked in
her mind. It grew greater and greater in its significance as delay
thrust hope further and further from her thought. Again impatience
grew, hot, angry impatience, and drove depression out. What were they
doing down there? Why did they not surround the bluff? There were
enough of them. Look! The light was still shining. It was the camp.
Where that light shone the men lay in hiding. Well--it was simple. To
her mind there was no need for----

The sound of a rifle shot split the air with significant abruptness.
The sound banished the last of her half-angry causing. The moment had
come. She raised herself up for no other reason than tense drawn
suspense.

A second shot. Then a rattle of musketry which suggested general
conflict. She drew a deep breath. Far away in the distance it seemed
she heard a sharp cry. It was the final shriek of a human creature in
the agony of a mortal wound. Then followed the sound of hoarse voices
shouting.

For some moments nothing in the scene changed. The