d not even notice it.

"Er--how do you do?" she said.

If she had not been an exceedingly pretty girl, one would have said that
she spoke squeakily. The fighting spirit of the Bennetts, though it was
considerable fighting spirit, had not risen to this emergency. It had
ebbed out of her, leaving in its place a cold panic. She had seen this
sort of thing in the movies--there was one series of pictures, "The
Dangers of Diana," where something of the kind had happened to the
heroine in every reel--but she had not anticipated that it would ever
happen to her; and consequently she had not thought out any plan for
coping with such a situation. A grave error. In this world one should be
prepared for everything, or where is one?

"I've brought the revolver," said Mr. Peters.

"So--so I see!" said Billie.

Mr. Peters nursed the weapon affectionately in his hand. He was rather a
shy man with women as a rule, but what Sam had told him about her being
interested in his revolver had made his heart warm to this girl.

"I was just on my way to have a little practice at the range," he said.
"Then I thought I might as well look in here."

"I suppose--I suppose you're a good shot?" quavered Billie.

"I seldom miss," said Jno. Peters.

Billie shuddered. Then, reflecting that the longer she engaged this
maniac in conversation, the more hope there was of Sam coming back in
time to save her, she essayed further small-talk.

"It's--it's very ugly!"

"Oh, no!" said Mr. Peters, hurt.

Billie perceived that she had said the wrong thing.

"Very deadly-looking, I meant," she corrected herself hastily.

"It may have deadly work to do, Miss Milliken," said Mr. Peters.

Conversation languished again. Billie had no further remarks to make of
immediate interest, and Mr. Peters was struggling with a return of the
deplorable shyness which so handicapped him in his dealings with the
other sex. After a few moments, he pulled himself together again, and,
as his first act was to replace the pistol in the pocket of his coat,
Billie became conscious of a faint stirring of relief.

"The great thing," said Jno. Peters, "is to learn to draw quickly. Like
this!" he added producing the revolver with something of the smoothness
and rapidity with which Billie, in happier moments, had seen Bream
Mortimer take a bowl of gold fish out of a tall hat. "Everything depends
on getting the first shot! The first shot, Miss Milliken, is vital."

Suddenly Bill