with her exclamation. "Of
course, I know she's dead, or at least, you say so, but we haven't got
enough proof without her--not the way old Waite promises to fight your
claim--and so we've got to hunt for a substitute. Do you happen to know
any old woman about the right age who would make affidavit for you? She
probably wouldn't have to go on the stand at all. Waite will cave in as
soon as he knows we've got the evidence."

He waited for an answer, but she hardly knew what to say. Then she
remembered that Keith insisted that Miss Maclaire had no conception that
there was any fraud in her claim.

"No, I know no one. But what do you mean? I thought everything was
straight? That there was no question about my right to inherit?"

"Well, there isn't, Christie," pulling fiercely on his cigar. "But the
courts are particular; they have got to have the whole thing in black
and white. I thought all along I could settle the entire matter with
Waite outside, but the old fool won't listen to reason. I saw him twice
to-day."

"Twice?" surprise wringing the word from her.

"Yes; thought I had got him off on a false scent and out of the way, the
first time, but he turned up again like a bad penny. What's worse, he's
evidently stumbled on to a bit of legal information which makes it safer
for us to disappear until we can get the links of our chain forged. He's
taken the case into court already, and the sheriff is here tryin' to
find me so as to serve the papers. I've got to skip out, and so've you."

"I?" rising to her feet, indignantly. "What have I done to be frightened
over?"

He laughed, but not pleasantly.

"Oh, hell, Christie, can't you understand? Old Waite is after you the
same way he is me. It'll knock our whole case if he can get you into
court before our evidence is ready. All you know is what I have told
you--that's straight enough--but we've got to have proof. I can get it
in a month, but he's got hold of something which gives him a leverage.
I don't know what it is--maybe it's just a bluff--but the charge is
conspiracy, and he's got warrants out. There is nothing for us to do but
skip."

"But my clothes; my engagement?" she urged, feeling the insistent
earnestness of the man, and sparring for delay. "Why, I cannot go.
Besides, if the sheriff is hunting us, the trains will be watched."

"Do you suppose I am fool enough to risk the trains?" he exclaimed,
roughly, plainly losing patience. "Not much; horses and the