“I want you to hide me. I want you to get me out of this country. I want you to divvy up with me. Didn't we grub-stake you with the haul from the Overland? Don't we go share and share alike, the two of us that's left? Ain't that fair and square? You wouldn't want to do less than right by an old pal, cap, you that are so respectable and proper now. You ain't forgot the man that lay in the ditch with you the night we held up the flyer, the man that rode beside you when you shot--” “For God's sake don't rake up forgotten scrapes. We were all young together then. I'll do what's right by you, but you got to keep your mouth shut and let me manage this.” “The way you managed it before when you let me rot at Yuma seven years,” jeered Struve. “I couldn't help it. They were on my trail and I had to lie low. I tell you I'll pull you through if you do as I say.” “And I tell you I don't believe a word you say. You double-crossed me before and you will again if you get a chance. I'll not let you out of my sight.” “Don't be a fool, Nick. How can I help you if I can't move around to make the arrangements for running you across the line?” “And what guarantee have I got you ain't making arrangements to have me scragged? Think I'm forgetting Saturday night?” The girl in the blackness without the candle-shine moved slightly. “What's that?” asked Dunke, startled. “What's what?” “That noise. Some one moved.” Dunke's revolver came swiftly from his pocket. “I reckon it must a-been the girl.” “What girl? Miss Kinney?” Dunke's hard eyes fastened on the other like steel augers. Margaret came forward and took wraithlike shape. “I want you to take me to Mrs. Collins, Mr. Dunke,” she said. The steel probes shifted from Struve to her. “What did you hear, Miss Kinney? This man is a storehouse of lies. I let him run on to see how far he would go.” Struve's harsh laugh filled the tunnel. “Take me to Mrs. Collins,” she reiterated wearily. “Not till I know what you heard,” answered Dunke doggedly. “I heard everything,” she avowed boldly. “The whole wretched, miserable truth.” She would have pushed past him, but he caught her arm. “Let me go!” “I tell you it's all a mistake. I can explain it. Give me time.” “I won't listen, I want never to see either of you again. What have I ever done that I should be mixed up with such men?” she cried, with bitter despair. “Don't go off half-cocked. 'Course I'll take you to Mrs. Collins if you like. But you got to listen to what I say.” Another candle glimmered dimly in the tunnel and came toward them. It presently stopped, and a voice rolled along the vault. “Hello, there!” Margaret would have known that voice anywhere among a thousand. Now it came to her sweet as water after a drought. She slipped past Dunke and ran stumbling through the darkness to its source. “Mr. Neill! Mr. Neill!”