business.
Before the tale was done the Sergeant was on his feet.

"Where are French and Kalman?" he said sharply.

"Gone hours ago," cried Brown. "They must be at the mine by now."

"Can this man be relied upon?" enquired the Sergeant.

"Absolutely," said Brown. "Fly! I'll follow."

Without further word the Sergeant was out of the house and on his horse.

"What trail?" he shouted.

"It is best by the river," cried Brown. "The cross trail you might
lose. Go! Go, in God's name!" he added, rushing toward his stable,
followed by Portnoff and his wife. "Where is Paulina?" he cried.

"Paulina," said his wife, "is gone. She is acting strangely these
days,--goes and comes, I don't know where."

"Get a boy, then," said her husband, "and send him to the ranch.
There is a bare chance we may stop them there. Portnoff, there is
another pony here; saddle and follow me. We'll take the cross
trail. And pray God," he added, "we may be in time!"

Great masses of liver-coloured clouds were piling up in the west,
blotting out the light from the setting sun. Over all a heavy
silence had settled down, so that in all the woods there was no
sound of living thing. Lashing his pony into a gallop, heedless of
the obstacles on the trail, or of the trees overhead, Brown crashed
through scrub and sleugh, with old Portnoff following as best he
could. Mile after mile they rode, now and then in the gathering
darkness losing the trail, and with frantic furious haste searching
it again, till at length, with their ponies foaming and trembling,
and their own faces torn and bleeding with the brush, they emerged
into the clearing above the ravine.

Meantime, the ghastly tragedy was being enacted. Impatiently at the
cave mouth French and Kalman waited the coming of those they were
to meet. At length, in the gathering gloom, Rosenblatt appeared,
coming up the ravine. He was pale and distraught.

"I have ridden hard," he said, "and I am shaken with my ride.
My papers are in my cabin. I shall get them."

In a few moments he returned, bringing with him a bottle and
two cups.

"Drink!" he said. "No? Then I will." He poured out a cup full of
raw whiskey and drank it off. "My partner is late," he said. "He
will be here in a few moments. Meantime, we can look over the
papers."

"It is too dark here," said French. "We can't see to read.
You have in your cabin a light, let us go there."

"Oh," cried Rosenblatt hastily, "it is more comfortable here