was silence.

"And there is one other thing," went on Judith swiftly, "known to no
one but Emmet Sawyer, whom I told, and me and Chris Quinnion: In
father's letter he told me that a man had paid him some money the day
before, and that he was going to drive to Rocky Bend to bank it.
'There are some tough customers in the country,' he wrote, 'and it's
foolhardy to have too much money in our old safe.' That money, several
hundred dollars, was never banked. It was not found on his body.
Where did it go?"

"Even that doesn't incriminate Quinnion, you know."

"No. The rest is pure guesswork on my part. Guesswork based on what I
know. Not enough to hang Chris Quinnion, Bud Lee. But enough to make
me sure. He's working at Trevor's game right now. If we can prove
that it is Trevors's game, it will go to show how worthless his alibi
was."

"Well?" called Quinnion, the third time. "What about it? We ain't
goin' to wait all night."

"Tell him," whispered Judith, her hand on Lee's arm, "to come and get
it if he wants it! One of us can hold the cabin against the two of
them while the other slips out in the dark and rides back to the
ranch-house for help. If we're in luck, Bud Lee, we'll corner the
bunch of them before daylight!"

Lee stood a moment looking down into her face, his mind filled with
uncertainties. With all his soul he wished that Judith had not come
with him to-night, that he had only himself to think of now. Quinnion,
not to be further put off, called again, the snarl of his voice rising
into ugly threat. Still Lee, thinking of Judith, hesitated.

"It's the only way," she insisted. "If we gave them the money they'd
want Bill Crowdy next. If they got Crowdy away with them into the
mountains I am not sure that they could not hide until they got him
safe in Trevors's hands. Then we'd have the whole fight still to make,
sooner or later. It's our one bet, Lee!"

And Bud Lee, seeing no better way ahead for them, blew out the candle,
forced Judith to stand close to the rock chimney of the fireplace, took
his station near her, and answered Quinnion, saying shortly:

"Come ahead when you're ready. We're waiting."

Quinnion's curse, the crack of his rifle, the flying splinters from the
cabin door, came together like one implacable menace.

"And now, Bud Lee," cried Judith quickly, "I don't mind telling you,
not seeing the end of the string we are playing, that you are a man to
my liking!"

"M