stairs--a tall man with a black beard,
and two others. They took her away an hour ago, and I have seen nothing
of her since. I--heard the shots, the sound of fierce fighting, but could
not move from the bed. Tell me, Major, what has become of my little
girl?"

"I do not know," I confessed, gazing about in bewilderment. "She came up
the stairs, I am sure. It was just as the fight began, and I had scarcely
a moment to observe anything before we were at it fiercely. She shot
Fagin down, and then ran."

"Shot Fagin! Claire!"

"Yes; she was justified. Had she not acted so quickly I would have done
so myself. He was forcing her into marriage."

"Into marriage! With whom?"

"Captain Grant," I answered passionately. "It was a deliberate plot,
although he pretended to be innocent, and a helpless prisoner. Later the
man fought with the outlaws against us; after Jones was killed he even
assumed command."

"He has been hand and glove with those fellows from the first, Colonel,"
chimed in Farrell hoarsely. "I've known it, and told Lawrence so a month
ago. I only hope he was killed down below. But what can have become of
Claire?"

"She never passed along here," insisted Mortimer, "for I haven't taken my
eyes from that door."

"Then she is hiding somewhere in those front rooms. Come on, Lawrence,
and we'll search them."

We went out hurriedly, leaving the wounded man lying helplessly on the
bed, and stepped carelessly across the dead sentinel lying in the
hallway. The memory of Peter recurred to me. He was not the kind to
desert his mistress at such a time. Stopping Farrell, I stepped back to
inquire. The Colonel opened his eyes wearily at sound of my voice.

"He is not here," he explained slowly. "Both Peter and Tonepah were sent
away to find a surgeon, and have not returned. We anticipated no danger
here with Captain Grant present."

I ground my teeth savagely together, recalling the treachery of the
latter, his insults to Claire, his deceiving of Eric, his stealing of
papers, hoping thus to ruin his own Colonel, his alliance with Fagin, his
selling of British secrets. Here was a villain through and through and I
hoped he had already paid the penalty. If not, I vowed the man should
never escape. But the thought of the missing girl came back, driving all
else from my mind. She was in none of those rooms we searched, nor did we
discover the slightest evidence of her having been there. As I stood in
the door of the dese