rst upon her ears
unmistakably--the noise of a horse running at breakneck speed. She
shuddered involuntarily, but tarried yet a moment longer to be sure.
Then he passed in his whirlwind way--she heard again that sound in the
night which never failed to bring terror to her heart--and then she went
in and locked the door and went up to her room. She had grown calm. She
was surprised at her own coolness, and the deliberateness with which she
went about her preparations to retire. Even when she opened her bureau
drawer and took therefrom a pearl-handled, thirty-two caliber revolver,
she was not stirred. Her father had given it to her on her sixteenth
birthday, and had taught her how to use it. She could shoot straight.
She even smiled as she laid it down in front of the mirror, after
breaking it to see that its chambers were full. Her adventure in the
morning would be fraught with danger, and the revolver which she knew so
well how to handle should go with her when she made her call on Devil
Marston.

CHAPTER X

That night John Glenning sat alone in his office with a letter spread
out on the table before him. Something had come to pass which he could
not understand; which had plunged him in a maze of incredulity in spite
of visual evidence. The letter had come that afternoon--had been
forwarded to him from Jericho--and he had taken it from the post-office
upon his return from his second visit to Dink Scribbens. The letter was
dated and post-marked New York City, and read as follows:

"JOHN GLENNING, ESQ.,

"Jericho, Ky.

"Dear Sir--The death of our client, and your uncle, John
Glenning, on the 14th inst., reveals the fact that one of his
life insurance polices was executed with you as beneficiary.
Proofs of his death having been properly forwarded to the
company by us, we are this day in receipt of a draft for $2000,
payable to your order. Find said draft enclosed. Please
acknowledge receipt.

"Yours truly,

"BENNER & LOCKE, Attorneys."

This letter, with the draft beside it, lay upon his table in the light
of a lamp none too clean. Letter and draft had been lying there for
about an hour and a half, and a coatless, tumbled-haired, hunted-eyed
man had been sitting in front of them for the same length of time,
alternately fingering the thin piece of paper which represented two
thousand dollars, and staring at the larger sheet, with its short,
business-