ry, white and shaking, though with a calmness that came from the
knowledge that in this crisis she must do what she could, went inside
and stood behind Owen, ready to respond to any call he might make upon
her.

Owen, his rage somewhat abated, though he still watched Dale and his
men with sullen, malevolent eyes, had changed his position. Mary had
brought a chair, and Owen sat on it, the rifle still resting on the
window-sill, menacing the men.

The minutes, it seemed to the girl, passed with exceeding slowness.
She watched the hands of a clock on a shelf in the room drag themselves
across the face of the dial, and twice she walked in front of the shelf
and peered intently at the clock, to be certain it was going.

Williams and the other men had been gone for something more than an
hour. But, as Owen had said, they would travel slowly, having no
incentive for haste. Sanderson, on the other hand, would make Streak
run his best--and she knew Streak could run.

So she began to estimate the time that would elapse before Sanderson
and Williams returned. With an hour's start, she gave Sanderson
three-quarters of an hour to catch them. Then, three quarters of an
hour additional would be required for the run home--if they came back
as swiftly as Sanderson had gone.

But she doubted that. She would give them a full hour for the return
trip. That would make an hour and three quarters.

But it seemed to her that an age elapsed before the minute hand on the
clock dragged itself one-quarter of the distance around the circle.

She looked out at Dale and his men. The men were all standing, their
backs to the house. But it seemed to the girl that they were standing
nearer to one another than they had been all along, and a pulse of
trepidation ran over her.

Watching them closely, Mary felt they were meditating some action.
They were whispering to one another, and Dale was gesturing as
emphatically as he could.

The girl was certain they contemplated concerted action of some sort,
and she was just about to apprise Owen of her fears, when she saw one
of the men--and then another and another--working with the ropes that
bound them. One of the men turned, a huge grin on his face. She
caught the flash of metal in the man's hands, saw the rope fall from
them, severed.

She shouted, then, at Owen:

"Look out, Barney; they've got a knife!"

At the instant she spoke the men moved as though by prearrangement. By
the t