Then presently her heart stood still again. From her higher place in the saddle, well back in the outskirts of the throng, in the dim light she made out a figure crouching on the roof; then another, and another, and a fourth. She suffered an agony of fear in the few heart-beats before they began to slip away. Her eyes swept the faces near her. One and all they were turned upon the struggling mass of humanity at the entrance to the passage. When she dared look again to the roof the fugitives were gone. She thought she perceived them swarming up a ladder to the higher roof, but in the surrounding grayness she could not be sure of this. The stamping of feet inside the house continued. Once there was the sound of an exploding revolver. After a long time a heavy figure struggled into view through the roof-trap. It was Dunke himself. He caught sight of the ladder, gave a shout of triumph, and was off in pursuit of his flying prey. As others appeared on the roof they, too, took up the chase, a long line of indistinct running figures. There were other women on the street now, most of them Mexicans, so that Margaret attracted little attention. She moved up opposite the house that had become the scene of action, expecting every moment to hear the shots that would determine the fate of the victims. But no shots came. Lights flashed from room to room, and presently one light began to fill a room so brilliantly that she knew a lamp must have been overturned and set the house on fire. Dunke burst from the front door, scarce a dozen paces from her. There was a kind of lurid fury in his eyes. He was as ravenously fierce as a wolf balked of its kill. She chose that moment to call him. “Mr. Dunke!” Her voice struck him into a sort of listening alertness, and again she pronounced his name. “You, Miss Kinney--here?” he asked in amazement. “Yes--Miss Kinney.” “But--What are you doing here? I thought you were at Fort Lincoln.” “I was, but I'm here now.” “Why? This is no place for you to-night. Hell's broke loose.” “So it seems,” she answered, with shining eyes. “There's trouble afoot, Miss Margaret. No girl should be out, let alone an unprotected one.” “I did not come here unprotected. There was a man with me. The one, Mr. Dunke, that you are now looking for to murder!” She gave it to him straight from the shoulder, her eyes holding his steadily. “Struve?” he gasped, taken completely aback. “No, not Struve. The man who stood beside Lieutenant Fraser, the one you threatened to kill because he backed the law.” “I guess you don't know all the facts, Miss Kinney.” He came close and met her gaze while he spoke in a low voice. “There ain't many know what I know. Mebbe there ain't any beside you now. But I know you're Jim Kinney's sister.” “You are welcome to the knowledge. It is no secret. Lieutenant Fraser knows it. So does his friend. I'm not trying to hide it. What of it?” Her quiet scorn drew the blood to his face.