. With half-smiling lips, Marette's
eyes blazed at him.

"Please put up your hands," she commanded.

The constable hesitated; then his fingers gripped the butt of his gun.
Kent, holding his breath, saw the almost imperceptible tensing of
Marette's body and the wavering of Pelly's arms over his head. Another
moment and he, too, would have called the bluff if it were that. But
that moment did not come. From the slim, black barrel of the girl's
revolver leaped forth a sudden spurt of smoke and flame, and the
special constable lurched back against the cell bars, caught himself as
he half fell, and then stood with his pistol arm hanging limp and
useless at his side. He had not made a sound, but his face was twisted
in pain.

"Open the cell door!"

A second time the deadly-looking little gun was pointed straight at
Pelly's heart. The half-smile was gone from the girl's lips now. Her
eyes blazed a deeper fire. She was breathing quickly, and she leaned a
little toward Pelly, repeating her command. The words were partly
drowned in a sudden crash of thunder. But Pelly understood. He saw her
lips form the words, and half heard,

"Open the door, or I shall kill you!"

He no longer hesitated. The key grated in the lock, and Kent himself
flung the door wide open and sprang out. He was quick to see and seize
upon opportunity and swift to act. The astounding audacity of the
girl's ruse, her clever acting in feigning horror to line the guards up
at the cell door and the thrilling decisiveness with which she had used
the little black gun in her hand set every drop of blood in his body
afire. No sooner was he outside his cell than he was the old Jim Kent,
fighting man. He whipped Carter's automatic out of its holster and,
covering Pelly and the special constable, relieved them of their guns.
Behind him he heard Marette's voice, calm and triumphant,

"Lock them in the cell, Mr. Kent!"

He did not look at her, but swung his gun on Pelly and the special
constable, and they backed through the door into the cell. Carter had
not moved. He was looking straight at the girl, and the little black
gun was leveled at his breast. Pelly and the wounded man did not see,
but on Carter's lips was a strange smile. His eyes met Kent's, and
there was revealed for an instant a silent flash of comradeship and an
unmistakable something else. Carter was glad! It made Kent want to
reach out and grip his hand, but in place of that he backed him into
the