d not have been either
resolute or strong, for the clasp of her arms, the feel of her warm
breast as she pressed me back were enough to make me weak as water. My
knees buckled as I touched the chair, and I was glad to sit down. My
face was wet with perspiration and a kind of cold ripple shot over me. I
imagined I was losing my nerve then. Proof beyond doubt that Sally loved
me was so sweet, so overwhelming a thing, that I could not resist, even
to save her disgrace.

"Russ, the fact of your being here is the very thing to save you--if
they come," Sally whispered softly. "What do I care what they think?"
She put her arms round my neck. I gave up then and held her as if she
indeed were my only hope. A noise, a stealthy sound, a step, froze that
embrace into stone.

"Up yet, Sally?" came Sampson's clear voice, too strained, too eager to
be natural.

"No. I'm in bed, reading. Good night, Uncle," instantly replied Sally,
so calmly and naturally that I marveled at the difference between man
and woman. Perhaps that was the difference between love and hate.

"Are you alone?" went on Sampson's penetrating voice, colder now.

"Yes," replied Sally.

The door swung inward with a swift scrape and jar. Sampson half entered,
haggard, flaming-eyed. His leveled gun did not have to move an inch to
cover me. Behind him I saw Wright and indistinctly, another man.

"Well!" gasped Sampson. He showed amazement. "Hands up, Russ!"

I put up my hands quickly, but all the time I was calculating what chance
I had to leap for my gun or dash out the light. I was trapped. And fury,
like the hot teeth of a wolf, bit into me. That leveled gun, the menace
in Sampson's puzzled eyes, Wright's dark and hateful face, these loosened
the spirit of fight in me. If Sally had not been there I would have made
some desperate move.

Sampson barred Wright from entering, which action showed control as
well as distrust.

"You lied!" said Sampson to Sally. He was hard as flint, yet doubtful
and curious, too.

"Certainly I lied," snapped Sally in reply. She was cool, almost
flippant. I awakened to the knowledge that she was to be reckoned with
in this situation. Suddenly she stepped squarely between Sampson and me.

"Move aside," ordered Sampson sternly.

"I won't! What do I care for your old gun? You shan't shoot Russ or do
anything else to him. It's my fault he's here in my room. I coaxed him
to come."

"You little hussy!" exclaimed Sampson, and he l