shaded light he saw
that she wore a dark cape, with its hood drawn over her head. In some
strange fashion the maid, even the woman, was lost, and she stood,
strange, mysterious, and dramatic in the little room.

"If you found Jud Clark, what would you do with him?" she demanded. From
beneath the hood her eyes searched his face. "Turn him over to Wilkins
and his outfit?"

"I think you know better than that."

"Have you got any plan?"

"Plan? No. They've got every outlet closed, haven't they? Do you know
where he is?"

"I know where he isn't, or they'd have him by now. And I know Jud Clark.
He'd take to the mountains, same as he did before. He's got a good
horse."

"A horse!"

"Listen. I haven't told this, and I don't mean to. They'll learn it in
a couple of hours, anyhow. He got out by a back fire-escape--they know
that. But they don't know he took Ed Rickett's black mare. They think
he's on foot. I've been down there now, and she's gone. Ed's shut up in
a room on the top floor, playing poker. They won't break up until about
three o'clock and he'll miss his horse then. That's two hours yet."

Bassett tried to see her face in the shadow of the hood. He was puzzled
and suspicious at her change of front, more than half afraid of a trap.

"How do I know you are not working with Wilkins?" he demanded. "You
could have saved the situation to-night by saying you weren't sure."

"I was upset. I've had time to think since."

He was forced to trust her, eventually, although the sense of some
hidden motive, some urge greater than compassion, persisted in him.

"You've got some sort of plan for me, then? I can't follow him haphazard
into the mountains at night, and expect to find him."

"Yes. He was delirious when he left. That thing about the sheriff being
after him--he wasn't after him then. Not until I gave the alarm. He's
delirious, and he thinks he's back to the night he--you know. Wouldn't
he do the same thing again, and make for the mountains and the cabin? He
went to the cabin before."

Bassett looked at his watch. It was half past twelve.

"Even if I could get a horse I couldn't get out of the town."

"You might, on foot. They'll be trailing Rickett's horse by dawn. And if
you can get out of town I can get you a horse. I can get you out, too, I
think. I know every foot of the place."

A feeling of theatrical unreality was Bassett's chief emotion during the
trying time that followed. The cloaked and shro