worry about me, now," he grumbled, although he held
her tenderly and close. "When will you find out that my life doesn't
matter; it's yours that counts?"

"I will never, never do it again," said Pauline like a naughty child.

"You used to say that when you were four years old. It was usually a
lie," said Harry.

"I love you," said Pauline irrelevantly.

"Then why-in-the-dickens-don't-you-marry me?" he demanded.

"Because--"

She stopped. Steps sounded from the roadway. They peered through the
thicket that concealed them and saw Owen approaching.

Pauline hailed him. He turned toward the thicket in obsequious haste.

"Thank Heaven, Miss Marvin," he cried. "It must be a miracle. And you
are safe, too," he added, turning to Harry.

"How did you know I was ever in danger?" inquired Harry grimly.

"We heard shots," explained Owen. "We saw the balloon fall and we knew
what you had done. It was magnificent. I congratulate you."

"Congratulate Polly," said Harry. "She slid out of Heaven, while I
only slid down hill."

"Where is your car, Mr. Marvin?"

"Up on the hill--if the kind persons who cut the chain didn't take it
with them."

Owen did not change color. "I will go and see if it is there. If not,
I'll find Hicks and his runabout. He's waiting somewhere about."

He set off briskly up the road.

"Polly, you still trust that man?" asked Harry.

"One has to trust one's guardian, doesn't one?"

He tossed his hands above his head in a gesture of "Give it all up."

"That's right; keep 'em there," said a rough voice, and a wiry man with
white handkerchiefs tied over his face below the eyes sprang with
crunching strides through the bushes. "Keep up your hands, I say," he
thundered at Harry, as he leveled a revolver.

Pauline was beside him and Harry dared not move. But Pauline dared.
With the resourceful courage that always inspired her she whipped his
revolver out his hip pocket and fired at the intruder's head.

His hat fluttered off into the road. He sprang at Pauline and wrested
the gun from her. As Harry rushed him, he had no time to fire, but the
butt of one revolver crashed on the young man's forehead. Harry sank
unconscious in the road.

Pauline knelt beside him. She was screaming for Owen--even for
Hicks. Hicks was instantly beside her but not to aid or rescue, for
Hicks was the man with the handkerchief mask. He half dragged, half
carried Pauline to a thicket that conceal