he other occupant of the
room shuffle out into the night. He was not long in deciding what to do.
Here was the chance to dispose of one of the bandits, and he was not
slow to seize it. There was a meeting in the thicket a few minutes
later, and Bill was "out of the way" for the time being. Wicker Bonner
dropped him with a sledge-hammer blow, and when he returned to the cabin
Bill was lying bound and gagged in the tent, a helpless captive.

His conqueror, immensely satisfied, supplied himself with the surplus
ends of "guy ropes" from the tent and calmly sat down to await the
approach of the one called Sam, he who had doubtless gone to a
rendezvous "for news." He could well afford to bide his time. With two
of the desperadoes disposed of in ambuscade, he could have a fairly even
chance with the man called Davy.

It seemed hours before he heard the stealthy approach of some one moving
through the bushes. He was stiff with cold, and chafing at the
interminable delay, but the approach of real danger quickened his blood
once more. There was another short, sharp, silent struggle near the
doorway, and once more Wicker Bonner stood victorious over an
unsuspecting and now unconscious bandit. Sam, a big, powerful man, was
soon bound and gagged and his bulk dragged off to the tent among the
bushes.

"Now for Davy," muttered Bonner, stretching his great arms in the pure
relish of power. "There will be something doing around your heart, Miss
Babe-in-the-Woods, in a very few minutes."

He chuckled as he crept into the cabin, first having listened intently
for sounds. For some minutes he lay quietly with his ear to the floor.
In that time he solved one of the problems confronting him. The man Davy
was a son of old Mrs. Rank's murderer, and the "old woman" who kept
watch with him was his mother, wife of the historic David. It was she
who had held the lantern, no doubt, while David Wolfe chopped her own
mother to mincemeat. This accounted for the presence of the gang in the
haunted house and for their knowledge of the underground room.

Bonner's inspiration began to wear off. Pure luck had aided him up to
this stage, but the bearding of David in his lair was another
proposition altogether. His only hope was that he might find the man
asleep. He was not taking the old woman into consideration at all. Had
he but known it, she was the most dangerous of all.

His chance, he thought, lay in strategy. It was impossible to open the
trap-