On the floor, distant a couple of yards, lay the shawl that Virginia had let fall from her nerveless arm when Rutley entered the room. He wriggled the chair toward it, and by extending his foot drew the shawl to his grasp.

It was a summer shawl, of generous proportions. The fabric was silk-wool mixture, of fine network weave, and consequently light and strong. Twisting it into a rope he bound her arms and limbs, meantime saying in a low, guarded voice, and with the utmost sauvity and coolness:

"I'll not be ruder or rougher than is necessary, my beauty. There! Now you are secure. I could even kiss those red, ripe cherry lips without fear of protest, but I'll not contaminate them by contact with those of a blackguard. No, no! Don't thank me for that, honey dear, for I'm content to witness your mute appreciation of my motive."

After he had bound her, he drew back a pace or two and critically surveyed his work.

"You must pardon me, dear heart, for deeming it prudent to make that gag a little more secure," and taking a handkerchief from his pocket he bound it over her mouth, knotting the ends at the back of her head.

"Rest a.s.sured, brave little girl," he resumed, in that same low, hissing voice, "I'm not a sneak thief, a burglar or a rake, though I do aspire to membership in that proud and great American order 'The Honorable Grafter'."

Having completed gagging her, he stood off a pace and chuckled.

"There, I think that will do!"

In the silence that followed Rutley was startled to hear a low, cautious voice on the lawn below say: "He is either in the house or up there in the timber."

"They've tracked me here," Rutley viciously hissed, his manner changed to intense alertness. He grasped the revolver and went on, "While I have been dallying with you, precious time was lost, d.a.m.n you! I'll see that you don't stand between me and liberty again!"

Virginia was again terrified and helpless at a moment when aid of the most determined and daring character was within call.

Then a second voice said: "The officers do be kapin' a lookout down be the river, and if he's in the water, sure they'll nab him. D'yees think he'd likely be up on the hill top in the brush?"

"I cannot say," replied the first voice, "but it looks to me as though he could not have crossed that open s.p.a.ce unseen."

Both of the men had spoken in low and serious tones and were recognized by the intent listeners in the room above as Sam and Smith.

They were evidently baffled and in a quandary as to the direction Rutley had taken after escape from the officer, and approached the house to warn the servants of Rutley's escape.

"Maybees," resumed Smith in the same low, cautious voice, "he whint up the hill be way ave the ravine, over beyant there."

Sam made no reply. He had caught sight of the profile of Virginia's face. Her eyes, terrified and tensely drawn, were askance and looking in his direction. The handkerchief over her mouth he first mistook as an evidence of physical suffering. He stepped back a pace, thinking to obtain a better view. He was disappointed.

What he had seen was a reflection of her face in the "dresser mirror,"

that by some strange chance had been adjusted at an angle which deflected objects downward.

He had aimlessly halted at a point directly in line of the reflection cast by the mirror over the cas.e.m.e.nt, and upon looking up saw through the screened window the reflection.

Those terrified eyes he had seen, suddenly set him in a ferment.

"Probably--by G.o.d!" he muttered under his breath.

"Phwat be yees lookin' at? Sure, I can say nothin'," exclaimed Smith.

"I'll just step in the house and 'phone for a sheriff's posse to search the timber, and prevent his escape from the hill. You wait near-by for me."

Sam had spoken loud as a ruse to deceive Rutley, for he felt morally certain that the cause of that frightened look in Virginia's eyes was the presence of the man he was after.

"Sure, I will that, and kape me eyes on the ravine, too."

As Sam started for the front door, Smith stalked about, with a stick in his hand, warily glancing from side to side and ready to fight on the instant.

Rutley prepared for a struggle, for he believed that Sam would ramble through the house. "Virginia must be concealed, but where?" He could not carry her to the attic, for Sam might meet him with her in his arms. "Ah, the closet!"

Thrusting the revolver in his pocket, he swiftly opened the door. Then he placed a chair within for her comfort, and without further hesitation gathered her in his arms and carried her to the closet.

After seating her on the chair, and while drawing some of Mrs. Harris'

skirts about her, he said to her in a low voice: "After I dispose of that meddlesome fool, I'll carry you to the loft and doubtless we'll find room in one of the large trunks stored there to conceal you; and I warn you, on peril of your life, to sit still!"

He then cautiously closed the door.

His next step was to remove the revolver from his pocket and carefully examine it. "It's a desperate bluff, but I'll try it."

There were two doors to the room other than the door of the closet; one opened into the hall, the other into a large bathroom and through to the bedroom beyond. He took the keys from his pocket and unlocked both doors, which he had fastened on meeting Virginia, and then placed the large cane arm chair, which he piled with cushions, to the right side of the table and a few feet from the hall door.

His movements were swift, silent and deliberate. Down behind the back of the chair he crouched and watched both doors with tigerish steadiness. He had barely taken his position when footsteps were heard in the hall. They pa.s.sed the door, then returned, halted, and the next instant low taps sounded on the door.

Simultaneously the closet door back of Rutley cautiously opened and Virginia stepped forth gagless and free. She had been more frightened than hurt or helpless, and had not discovered it until imprisoned in the closet. Left to herself, she immediately struggled to free her limbs from bondage. One foot was unexpectedly loosed and then the other. Her hands quickly followed, and the twisted shawl fell to the floor.

Rutley had depended partly on her fear of him to remain pa.s.sive, for the shawl was not long enough to permit her limbs being bound together and securely tied with a knot. Having freed her hands, it was the work of a moment to remove the gag from her mouth.

She stood motionless and silent save for the palpitation of her heart, which seemed thunderous in its beat. Rutley had not heard her, his attention being wholly absorbed by the sounds in the hall, and being back of him, she had time to quiet her agitation and a.n.a.lyze the situation.

Again low raps sounded on the door.

"What shall I do?" she inaudibly muttered, "for to aid me Sam will walk in to his death. Oh, heaven inspire me!"

As the hall door slowly opened, she tried in her agony to shriek a warning, but not a sound escaped her lips. Terror and apprehension had for the moment bereft her of voice.

Suddenly, like a divine flash, she remembered Jack Sh.o.r.e's blanket device in the cabin at Ross Island. She turned half around, silently stooped and picked up the shawl from the closet floor. She was very nervous and her agitation caused a trifling delay, which to her appeared hours, in untwisting the wrap and spreading it out, suspended on her two hands before her.

Sam cautiously appeared around the door. He was keenly alert, for he fully expected an encounter with Rutley, being quite satisfied that no other person would dare to gag Virginia, but when in that swift glance he saw her only in the room, and she with the gag removed and fingering a shawl, his surprise was so great that he forgot his caution. He pushed the door open wider and entered the room. His lips parted to speak.

That instant Rutley said sharply, "Hands up!"

Sam's hands went up, and he looked into the muzzle of a revolver, pointed at him from behind the chair.

Rutley stood up. At almost the same moment Virginia swiftly approached from behind and threw the net over his head, and shrieked, "Help!

Help!"

In the furiousness of his rage to throw off the shawl, Rutley's hands became entangled in the net, and he shouted, "Oh, h.e.l.l!"

Sam sprang upon him and wrenched the revolver from his hand. Then, as he leaped back a couple of paces, said to Rutley: "Hands up! It's my turn now, old chappie!"

Rutley paid no heed to the command and at last cleared from the net with a snarl.

"He, he, he--a devil is toothless when h.e.l.l is without fire!" Then with a fiendish leer, drew the knife from his breast pocket. "d.a.m.n you!"

said he, crouching for a spring on Sam, "you've crossed my path once too often!"

Swiftly Sam looked at the revolver and exclaimed with deep chagrin, "Empty!" He, however, gripped it by the muzzle and prepared for the encounter.

The men slowly circled each other for an opening. Suddenly they clinched, and in the struggle Sam was fortunate to seize Rutley's knife hand.