The Crimson Gardenia and Other Tales of Adventure Read online

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  _The Crimson Gardenia_

  _and Other Tales of Adventure_

  BY REX BEACH

  AUTHOR OF "HEART OF THE SUNSET" "THE SPOILERS" ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED

  HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERSNEW YORK AND LONDON

  THE CRIMSON GARDENIA AND OTHER TALES OF ADVENTURECopyright, 1911, 1912, 1913, 1916, by Harper & BrothersCopyright, 1910, 1913, by Cosmopolitan MagazineCopyright, 1906, by The Metropolitan Magazine Co.Printed in the United States of AmericaPublished April, 1916

  Her eyes flashed to the white gardenia on his breast,then up to his own.]

  CONTENTS

  THE CRIMSON GARDENIA

  ROPE'S END

  INOCENCIO

  THE WAG-LADY

  "MAN PROPOSES--"

  TOLD IN THE STORM

  THE WEIGHT OF OBLIGATION

  THE STAMPEDE

  WHEN THE MAIL CAME IN

  MCGILL

  THE BRAND

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  HER EYES FLASHED TO THE WHITE GARDENIA ON HIS BREAST, THEN UP TO HIS OWN

  AS FLOREAL ROSE FROM HIS FATHER'S BODY HE HEARD A SHOT AND SAW THESOLDIERS OF THE REPUBLIC CHARGING HIM

  "TAKE YOUR HAND OFF THAT GUN, BARCLAY"

  "BARCLAY WASN'T MORE 'N HALF DEAD, AND THE WOMAN FELL TO BEGGIN' FOR HISLIFE AGAIN"

  THE CRIMSON GARDENIA

  I

  The royal yacht had anchored amid a thunder of cannon, and the king hadgone ashore. The city was bright with bunting; a thousand whistles blew.Up through the festooned streets His Majesty was escorted between longrows of blue-coated officers, behind which the eager crowds were massedfor mile upon mile. Thin wire cables were stretched along the curbs, tohold the people back, but these threatened to snap before the weight ofthe multitude.

  In the neighborhood of the raised pavilion where the queen and her maidsof honor waited, the press was thickest; here rows of stands had beenerected that groaned beneath their freight, while roof-tops and windows,trees and telegraph-poles, were black with clustered humanity.

  The king was tall and dark; a long beard hid his face. But the queen wasyoung and blushing, and her waiting-women were fairer than springtimeflowers. To a crashing martial air, she handed him a sparkling goblet inwhich he pledged her happiness, while the street rocked to the roar ofmany voices, and in the open spaces youths, grotesquely costumed, dancedwith goblin glee.

  Mr. Roland Van Dam secretly thought it all quite fine and inspiriting,but he was too highly schooled to allow himself much emotion. He hadbeen hard put to obtain seats, and had succeeded only through theefforts of a friend, the Duke of Cotton; therefore, he felt, the membersof his party might have shown at least a perfunctory appreciation. Butthey were not the appreciative kind, and their attitude was made plainby Eleanor Banniman's languid words:

  "How dull! It's nothing like the carnival at Nice, and the people seemvery common."

  Her father was dozing uncomfortably, with his two lower chins telescopedinto his billowing chest; Mrs. Banniman complained of the heat and theglare, and predicted a headache for herself. Near by, the rest of theparty were striving to conceal their lack of interest by guying thecrowd below. Van Dam had been the one to suggest this trip to NewOrleans for the Mardi Gras, and he felt the weight of entertainmentbearing heavily upon him. In consequence, he assumed a sprightlyinterest that was very far from genuine.

  "This sort of thing awakens something medieval inside of one, don't youknow," he said.

  Miss Banniman regarded him with a bland lack of comprehension; hermother moaned weakly, the burden of her complaint being, as usual:

  "Why _did_ we leave Palm Beach?"

  "All those dukes and things make me feel as if it were real," Van Damexplained further. "They say this Rex fellow is a true king during MardiGras week, and those chaps in masks are quite like court jesters. Maybethey sing of wars and love and romance--and all that rot."

  "I dare say life was just as uninteresting in olden days as it is now,"Eleanor remarked. "Love and romance exist mainly in books, I fancy. Ifthey ever did exist, we've outgrown them, eh, Roly?"

  Being a very rich and a very experienced young woman, Miss Bannimanprided herself upon her lack of illusion. To be sure, she occasionallypermitted Roland to kiss her in celebration of their engagement, butsuch caresses left her unperturbed; her pulses had never been stirred.She looked upon marriage as a somewhat trying, although necessary,institution. Van Dam, being equally modern and equally satiated bylife's blessings, shared her beliefs in a vague way.

  Manifestly, no lover could allow such an assertion as this to gounchallenged, so he rose to the defense of romance, only to hear hersay:

  "Nonsense! Do be sensible, Roly. Such things aren't done nowadays."

  "What things aren't done?"

  "Oh, those crude, primitive performances we read about in novels. Nicepeople don't fall in love overnight, for instance. They don't allowthemselves to hate, and be jealous, and to rage about like wild animalsany more."

  "The idea! Your father is a perfect savage, at heart," said Mrs.Banniman. She nodded at her sleeping husband, who was roused at thatmoment by a fly that had strayed into his right nostril. Mr. Bannimansneezed, half opened his eyes, and murmured a feeble anathema beforedozing off again. It was plain that he was not greatly enjoying theMardi Gras.

  "All men are primitive," said Roly, quoting some forgotten author, atwhich Eleanor eyed him languidly.

  "Could you love at first sight and run off with a girl?"

  "Certainly not. I'd naturally have to know something about her people--"

  "Were you ever jealous?"

  "You've never given me an occasion," he told her, gallantly.

  "Did you ever hate anybody?"

  "Um-m--no!"

  "Ever been afraid?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Revengeful?"

  "Certainly not."

  She smiled. "It's just as I said. Respectable people don't allowthemselves to be harrowed by crude emotions. I hate my modiste when shefails to fit me; I was jealous of that baroness at the Poinciana--theone with all those gorgeous gowns; I'm afraid of flying-machines; butthat is as deep as such things go, nowadays--in our set."

  Van Dam was no hand at argument, and he had a great respect for MissBanniman's observation; moreover, he had been discussing something ofwhich he possessed no first-hand knowledge. Therefore, he said nothingfurther. No one had a greater appreciation of, or took a keener pleasurein, life's unruffled placidity than the young society man. No one had adenser ignorance of its depths, its hidden currents, and its unchartedchannels than he; for adventure had never come his way, romance hadnever beckoned him from rose-embowered balconies. And yet, as the worldgoes, he was a normal individual, save for the size of his income. Hehad not lost interest in life; he was merely interested in things whichdid not matter. That, after all, is quite different.

  There were times, nevertheless, when he longed vaguely for somethingthrilling to happen, when he regretted the Oslerization of romance andthe commercializing of love. Of course, adventure still existed; onecould hunt big game in certain hidden quarters, if one chose. Van Damdetested stuffed heads, and it took so much time to get them. Theseunformed desires came to him only now and then, and he felt ashamed ofthem, in an idle way.

  Now that the parade had passed, the visitors lost no time in leaving,and a dignified stampede toward the hotel occurred, for the gentlemenwere thirsty and the ladies wished to smoke. It was due to their haste,pe
rhaps, that Van Dam became separated from them and found himselfdrifting along Canal Street alone in a densely packed crowd ofmerrymakers. A masked woman in a daring Spanish dress chucked him underthe chin; her companion showered him with confetti. A laughing Pierrotwhacked him with a noisy bladder; boys and girls in ragged disguisesimportuned him for pennies. A very, very shapely female person, in whatappeared to be the beginnings of a bathing suit, laughed over hershoulder, inviting him, with eyes that danced.

  "My word!" murmured the New-Yorker. "This is worth while."

  Ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of Miss Banniman's aigrettes and theponderous figure of her father. But the gaiety of the carnival crowd hadinfected him, and he was loath to leave it for the Grunewald, whitherhis friends were bound with the unerring directness of thirstymillionaires. It was a brilliant, gorgeous afternoon; the streets werealive with color. Somewhere through this crowd, the young man idlyreflected, adventure--even romance--might be stalking, if such thingsreally existed. So he decided to linger. To be quite truthful, Van Dam'sdecision was made, not with any faintest idea of encountering eitherromance or adventure, but because a slight indigestion made the thoughtof a gin-fizz or a julep unbearable at the moment.

  As he continued to move with the throng, the butt of badinage and thetarget for impudent glances, he felt a desire to be of it and in it. Heyielded himself to a most indiscreet impulse. Assuring himself that hewas unobserved, he stepped into a store, purchased a plain black dominoand mask, donned them, and then fell in with the procession once more,dimly amused at his folly, vaguely surprised at his impropriety.

  But now that he was one of the revelers he was no longer an object oftheir attentions; they paid no heed to him, and he soon became bored. Heengaged himself in conversation with an old flower-woman, and, as shehad only a solitary gardenia left in her tray, he bought it in orderthat she might go home. He pinned the blossom on the left breast of hisdomino, and wandered to the nearest corner to watch the crowds flowpast.

  He had been there but a moment when a girl approached and stood besidehim. She was petite, and yet her body beneath its fetching Normancostume showed the rounded lines of maturity; at the edge of her maskher skin gleamed smooth and creamy; her eyes were very dark and verybright. As Mr. Van Dam was a very circumspect young man, not given tothe slightest familiarity with strangers, he confined his attentions toan inoffensive inventory of her charms, and was doubly startled to hearher murmur:

  "You came in spite of all, m'sieu'!"

  A French girl, he thought. No doubt one of those Creoles he had heard somuch about. Aloud, he said, with a bow:

  "Yes, mademoiselle. I have been looking for some one like you."

  Her eyes flashed to the white gardenia on his breast, then up to hisown. "You were expecting some one?"

  "I was. A girl, to guide me through the carnival."

  "But you are early. Did you not receive the warning?"

  "Warning?" he answered, confused. "I received no warning."

  "I feared as much," she said, "so I came. But it was unwise of you; itwas madness to risk the streets." Her eyes left his face, to scan thecrowds.

  He fancied she shrank from them, as if fearing observation. Van Dam waspuzzled. Her voice and manner undoubtedly betrayed a genuine emotion, orelse she was a consummate actress. If this were some Mardi Gras prank,he felt a desire to see the next move. If it proved to be anything more,he fancied that he was too sophisticated to be caught and fleeced like acountryman. But something told him that this was no ordinary streetflirtation. The words "warning," "risk" seemed to promise entertainment.If, as he suspected, she had mistaken him for some one else, a briefmasquerade could lead to no harm. He decided to see how far he couldcarry the deception.

  "What warning could serve to prevent my seeing you?" he asked in ahollow voice; then was surprised at the flush that stole upward to thegirl's dainty ear.

  "You are indeed insane to jest at such a time," she breathed. "I wouldnever have known you without the flower. But come--we are in dangerhere. Some one--is waiting. Will you follow me?"

  "To the ends of the earth," he replied, gallantly.

  Again she gave him a startled glance, half of pleasure, half ofdeprecation; then, as he made a movement to accompany her, she checkedhim.

  "No, no! You must let me go ahead. They are everywhere. They may suspecteven my disguise. I--I am dreadfully afraid."

  Van Dam scarcely knew how to answer this. So, like a wise man, he heldhis tongue.

  "Listen!" she continued. "I will walk slowly, and do you remain farenough behind for your own safety--"

  "My safety is as nothing to yours," he told her, but she shook her headimpatiently.

  "Please! Please! They will never select you out of a thousand dominos,and I am not sure they suspect me. But should they try to lift my mask,you must escape at once."

  "Would they dare?" Mr. Van Dam inquired, shocked at such a breach ofcarnival etiquette.

  "They would dare anything."

  "But I couldn't allow it, really," he persisted. "If any hand is to liftyour mask, I insist that mine be the favored one."

  She darted a doubtful look at him, being plainly perturbed at his tone,then shook her head. "She told me you were reckless, but you arequite--insane."

  For a second time he discovered that delicious color tingeing her neckand laughed, which disconcerted her even more. She hesitated, thenturned away and he fell in behind her.

  But distance served only to enhance the girl's charms. Roly saw howbeautifully proportioned she was, how regally she carried herself, howlight and springy was her step. Although he had not seen her face, hesomehow felt agreeably certain that she possessed a witching beauty.

  The circumspection with which she avoided the densest crowds made himwonder anew at the character of the danger that could overhang a maskedmaiden at mid-afternoon on a carnival day, for by this time he hadforgotten his first suspicion. He thought not at all that the perilcould be serious, or in any way involve him, for the magic of the VanDam name protected its owner like invisible mail. The effect of thatpatronymic was really quite wonderful; policemen bowed to it, iratestrangers allowed their anger to ooze away before it. It smoothed theowner's way through difficulties and brought him favors when leastexpected; rage changed to servility; indignation, opposition, evenjealousy altered color in the shadow of the Van Dam millions. Nothingreally unpleasant ever happened to Roly, and so it was that he hadbecome _blase_ and tired at twenty-six.

  He followed his masked guide across Canal Street and into the foreignquarter of the city, where the surroundings were unfamiliar to him. Hegazed with mild repugnance at the squalid old houses, moldering behindtheir rusted iron balconies. Dim, flag-paved hallways allowed him aglimpse of flowered courtyards at the rear; cool passages went twistingin between the buildings. Over hard-baked, glaring walls there droopedbranches laden with bloom and fruit. The streets were narrow, the housesleaned intimately toward one another, as if exchanging gossip; littlecafes with sanded floors opened upon the sidewalks. Here the carnivalcrowd was more foreign in character; people were dancing to orchestrasof guitar and mandolin; youths turned somersaults for pennies; raggednegroes jigged and shuffled with outstretched hats.

  Through this confusion the Norman girl took her way, now seeking somedeep doorway to allow a particularly boisterous group to pass, nowflitting through the open spaces with the swift irregularity of abutterfly winging its course through sunlit stretches. But her caution,her birdlike, backward glances, told Van Dam that she was in constantdread of discovery, and involuntarily he lessened the distance betweenthem.

  It was well, perhaps, that he did so, for just then a man in a dominolike his own accosted the girl. Roly saw his guide shrink away, saw herturn and signal him with a swift, imperious gesture of warning. Insteadof heeding it, he moved forward in time to intercept the stranger. Thefellow was laughing loudly; he assumed a tipsy air and lurched againstthe girl; then, with a quickness that belied his pose, he snatched ather mask a
nd bared her features. She cried out in terror, and with thesound of her voice Mr. Van Dam flew to action. He knew that until sixo'clock disguises were inviolate, and that it was against the strictestof police regulations to unmask a reveler; therefore he yielded to arighteous impulse and struck the man in the domino squarely upon thejaw. Beneath Roly's rounded proportions was a deceptive machinery ofbone and muscle that had been schooled by the most expensive instructorsof boxing. He had known how to hit cleanly since he was twelve yearsold, and although he had never struck a man in anger until this moment,his fist went true. The fellow rocked stiffly back upon his heels andfell like a wooden figure, his head thumping dully on the pavement, andRoly gave vent to a most ungentlemanly snort of surprise andsatisfaction. It had been much easier than he had expected, and feelingthat the man should have every opportunity for fair play Roly beganpromptly to count, "One, two, three--" Then he felt the girl's hand uponhis arm, and turned in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of a dimpledchin as she drew her mask down. "Rotten trick, that!"

  "Heaven above!" she gasped. "You must flee--quickly!"

  People were crossing the street toward them, drawn by the sight of thefallen man.

  "Run away and leave you?" queried Roly. "Hardly!"

  "Then"--the breath caught in the girl's throat--"come!"

  She clutched his hand and they fled, side by side, pursued by half ascore of shouting merrymakers. Around the first corner they scurried,into a crowd, then out of it and into the next thoroughfare, doublingand turning until the girl's breath was gone.

  "Why--did--you do--it? Ah!--why?" she gasped, still hurrying him along.

  "Drunken loafer!" Van Dam said, vindictively.

  "He was not drunk! Don't you understand? Didn't you guess? It was theBlack Wolf!"

  Roly did not understand, and he had no opportunity to guess who or whatthe Black Wolf might be, for his companion paused, crying:

  "God help us! They are coming."

  From the street behind rose a babble of angry voices.

  "He saw me! He knows!"

  She cast a despairing glance about, and, spying a narrow alley close athand, darted toward it, dragging Van Dam with her.

  Retreat carries with it a peculiar panic, and the young man felt thestirring of an utterly new sensation within him. He was running away!What was more, he wanted to keep running, even though he had not thefaintest idea of what menaced him. It was quite remarkable. He seemed tofeel, for some unknown reason, that this sprightly young person besidehim was indeed risking her safety for him. Therefore, he began to shareher apprehensions, but as to what it meant or whither the adventure wasleading he had not a suspicion. He did wonder, however, where the BlackWolf got his name.

  The alley was damp and slippery, being no more than a tunnel-likepassage between two buildings, and it led into a large courtyard full ofcarts and wagons. A low shed ran along one side of the inclosure; at therear was a two-story structure used as a stable.

  "There! I guess we've given them the slip," Van Dam sighed, with relief.

  But his companion shook her head. "No, no! We must hide. The Black Wolfhas the cunning of Satan, and now that he knows--" She sped through theconfusion of vehicles to the stable door, with Roly following. Aninstant more and they were in an odorful, dim-lit place divided intostalls out of which the heads of several horses were thrust in friendlygreeting. The girl closed the door and leaned panting against it, onehand to her heaving bosom. Her head was bowed and her ears were strainedfor sounds of pursuit. In the silence Van Dam heard his own heavybreathing, the swish of the horses' tails, an impatient stirring ofhoofs, and a gentle whinny. He discovered that his pulse was hammeringin a very unusual manner and that he was agreeably excited.

  The girl uttered an exclamation. "I feared so! Hurry!" She slipped pasthim to a rickety stairway that led upward. "Ah--h--! this mask issmothering me!" She disengaged it hastily, and he saw it dangling in herhand as he mounted the steep stairs behind her. He saw also a pair ofdainty silken ankles, swelling into delicious curves that were hidden inthe foamy whiteness of lingerie. Being an extremely respectfulgentleman, Mr. Van Dam lowered his eyes, anticipating with curiouseagerness the pleasure of beholding her countenance, once they hadgained the loft. The desire to see behind her mask became really acute.He had missed one opportunity by so narrow a margin as to quicken hisdesires.

  They came out upon a rough landing, and Van Dam caught the whisk of herskirts disappearing through a door that led into the haymow. As hefollowed, the door closed and he found himself in utter darkness. Heheard her fumbling with the lock. Their hands came together as he turneda rusty key and he felt her figure close against his; her fragrantbreath fanned his cheek.

  "Make no sound, as you value our lives."

  As she whispered this, Van Dam swore mildly at the luck that preventedhim from appraising his companion's good looks, now that her mask wasoff. From the courtyard below sounded voices. The girl clutched himnervously; her hand was shaking. He could feel her shiver, so he slippedan arm about her waist. He did this merely to steady her, he toldhimself. He reasoned further that such a familiarity could scarcely beoffensive in the dark. As she yielded gratefully to his embrace, hersoft body palpitating against his own, he ceased reasoning and drew hercloser. It was very agreeable to discover that she made no resistance;he could not recollect any sensation quite like this! As yet he had donenothing improper, in view of the fact that it was every gentleman'sbounden duty to succor beauty in distress. He wondered if his friends atthe Grunewald had missed him, then realized with relief that MissBanniman never allowed his presence or his absence to interfere in theslightest with her arrangements. They were probably finishing theirdrinks by now. This would make an entertaining story, later in theevening; they would never guess what he was doing.

  "Who is that speaking?" he inquired.

  "Francois, the Spider," whispered the girl. "Eh, God! How they all havecome to hate you!"

  Roly reasoned from these words that his enemies numbered more than oneor two, and involuntarily he asked: "Hate me? What for?"

  The girl trembled. "As if you did not know."

  "And what would happen if they found me--us?" he persisted, feelingvaguely for some hint.

  "Ah!" Her breath caught. "Hush!" She laid her fingers over the lips ofhis mask.

  Van Dam yielded to an ungovernable impulse and kissed them through thestiff, harsh cloth, whereat she said in wonderment:

  "Heaven guard us! You are actually laughing. That you are wild, I knew;but--you are--you act very strangely, m'sieu."

  "Perhaps I'm intoxicated," he murmured, and pressed her slender waistmeaningly; whereupon she seemed to feel his arm for the first time. Shedrew away, but as she disengaged his embrace her hand encountered his.

  "It is wet--bloody--where you struck the Black Wolf."

  "That was a good wallop, wasn't it?" Van Dam chuckled, withsatisfaction, while she felt for her handkerchief and dabbled at hisbruised knuckles. "I wondered if I could put him out."

  Then they ceased whispering, for some one was entering the stablebeneath them. After a time the stairs creaked to a heavy tread, a handtried the door, and they could feel a presence within arm's-length. Theystood motionless, not daring even to shift their weight upon the crazyfloor, until the fellow began to explore the other portion of the loft.

  "That is the Spider himself," breathed the girl, close to Van Dam's ear."He thinks he has me in his web; but--"

  "Yes?"

  "I would die before I married him."

  A sudden dislike for spiders in general awoke in Roly's breast.

  "I hate him. I would kill him if I dared, but he frightens me--" Shebroke off and caught at her companion, gasping: "God! What are youdoing?"

  He had turned the key softly and was opening the door. To be quitetruthful, Roly Van Dam did not know exactly what he intended doing, butsome reckless impulse moved him to action. He was invaded by a suddendesire to lay hands upon this Spider person who went about terrorizingpre
tty girls. Having been reared to a habit of doing exactly as impulsedictated, he felt no hesitation now. Away back in his mind, however,something told him calmly that he had gone quite mad, that the magic ofadventure had sent his wits a-flying and had played havoc with hiscommon sense. And a change really had come over him with the verybeginning of this enterprise, although he had not stopped to notice it.The flaring rage that had answered to the Wolf's assault upon the girl,the joyful sensation of setting his fist into the fellow's face, theexcitement of the flight and the pursuit, had all combined to upset hisequilibrium. Then, too, the presence of this bewitching creature closebeside him in the darkness, the pressure of her body in his arms, thescent of her warm breath--all this helped to completely electrify him.He felt the dawning of new and utterly absurd desires. Away withdiscretion! To the winds with prudence! This maiden's cause was his.Here was the one glad moment of his life.

  "Francois!" he called in a low voice. He slipped the girl's hand fromhis arm, thrust her back into the shadows, and stepped out upon thelanding.

  "_Oui!_ In a moment!" The Spider came stumbling toward him. "She is nothere." Van Dam saw a tall man in a domino like his own. "_Sacre!_ Shehas disappeared; and that devil's spawn is with her. You found no tracein the yard below?"

  "Sst! Listen," breathed Roly. He sank his fingers into his palms andmeasured the distance carefully. Then, as Francois turned his headattentively, Roly braced himself and swung. It may have been due to theuncertain light, or to the narrow eyelet-holes through which he peered;at any rate, Van Dam's blow went short.

  The Spider uttered a cry of fury and surprise. Roly felt himself huggedby a pair of thin, iron-muscled arms; then his hands felt in beneath theman's disguise, and the cry changed to a gurgle. They strained androcked against each other briefly; the floor sagged and creaked; thedoor behind them flew open. Francois was groping with one free hand athis waist; but his domino was like a shirt, and he could not find thatfor which his hungry fingers searched. As for Van Dam, a deliciousferocity was flaming through his veins. Here was an enemy bent upon hisquick destruction. No game he had ever played was half so exhilaratingas this. He could feel the fellow writhe and the breath bursting throughbeneath his fingers; he could feel the man's cords harden until theywere like wire. Strange to say, with every wrench and every surge hisown abysmal fury increased. But the Spider was no weakling; he foughtdesperately until, in a burst of blind anger that was like some diabolicglee, Van Dam lifted him bodily and hurled him at the opening in thefloor. The fellow missed his footing, clawed wildly, then fell backwardheadlong into the light below. The next instant Van Dam, too, had losthis balance and followed, bumping from step to step until he fetched upat the foot with a jar that drove the breath out of him.

  He sat up in a moment, still dazed; then he heard a rustle, and beheldabove him a pair of frightened, dark eyes gazing into his. Although hecould see nothing of the girl's face--she had replaced her mask--he knewthat she was racked with anxiety.

  "Are you killed?" she queried.

  "No; just abominably twisted," he said. Then, with a wry face: "Ouch!That was an awful bump." As he felt himself over gingerly he stoppedshort at the sight of his mask lying crumpled beside him. He realizedthat the jig was up and began to formulate an explanation of hisdeception, only to hear her exclaim, tremulously:

  "God be praised! You are unhurt."

  He sat still, staring at her, amazed that no outburst followed herglimpse of his face.

  "How did you dare--?" She turned to the figure of Francois, which Rolydiscovered motionless an arm's-length away.

  The Spider was sprawled loosely in the litter. His head was twisted uponhis shoulders in a peculiar way, and his mask, having slipped to theback, stared upward with a placid, waxlike smile that was horrible underthe circumstances.

  Still lost in wonderment, Van Dam arose, dusted off his clothing, andpicked up his own disguise. Was it possible that she did not know theperson she had gone to meet? It seemed so, indeed, for she was hangingupon him anxiously, as if still doubting his safety, while she halfsobbed her admiration of his bravery and her gratitude at his escape.Roly began to fear he had been imposed upon, after all, else how couldshe fail to realize that he was an utter stranger? But the girl'shonesty was compelling; he found that he could not doubt the sincerityof her gaze.

  He felt an unaccountable lack of compunction regarding the Spider. Infact, he experienced a sense of satisfaction at the completeness of hisvictory over the ruffian, and she seemed to share the feeling.

  He heard her urging him to make haste, and before he had fully regainedhis wits he found himself following her out into the sunlight.Underneath the wagon-shed she guided him, around behind it and into anarrow three-foot space, the left side of which was bounded by a boardfence about head-high.

  "Quick!" she cried, eagerly. "Once we are on the other side we mayescape. The others are somewhere close by."