It was Roxie who was dreaming. Her eyes were closed and her breathing regular. Yet from time to time she stirred uneasily in her sleep. Then Allston, fearing lest she take cold, slipped the blanket from his shoulders and threw it over her--very gently so that she would not awake. Her face in repose appeared even younger. It was quite untroubled. He thanked God for that. If only she were sleeping safe in her own bed as she should be! Allston became aware of the approaching dawn even before there was light. The wind died down so that it was quite still all about the shack. But within, the air became fresher with the clearness of atomized spring water. When the light did begin to come, it came subtly. It was more as though the dark were being diluted. Without moving, Allston watched the process with weird fascination. He wished the girl to sleep as long as that was safe, but he knew this could not be for long. The sun was coming up behind those dark ridges, and it was only a question of a very brief time when it would enter here and leave them as exposed as though the wall of the shack were torn down. Every window would be a menace. There would not be a corner left in which they could hide. He did not wish to hide. Light was what he was waiting for--light that would allow Bud to distinguish between him and Roxie. Only he must time himself nicely; it must be clear enough not to permit of any mistake on Bud’s part, but not clear enough to allow the man to shoot through the windows. On the shelf over the fireplace there was a row of crocks. As soon as he was able to count these, Allston would rouse the girl. That time came within five minutes. He made out four of them--one, two, three, four. He placed his hand on Roxie’s head and whispered her name. She started to her feet, staring about wildly. “Steady,” whispered Allston. “It’s morning.” The girl was confused. It was difficult for her to grasp the situation. “Listen,” he commanded. “I’m going out before he can see us here. It’s the only way. You’re to stay behind until I get across the clearing. Then you follow. You’ll be safe.” “I’ll be safe!” she cried. “But you?” “I must take my chances.” “Then I wanter take mine--with yuh.” “You’ll only spoil mine,” he frowned. “I can get across there alone, and once in the woods I’ll wait for you. Straight from the house and across the road. You understand?” “No-o-,” she whimpered. “If he tries to stop you, I’ll have him covered. Straight across and into the woods.” Already the crocks on the shelf were becoming too visible. “You’ve been game till now; be game to the end,” he whispered. Beseechingly she stood before him with uplifted face. He stooped and brushed her forehead. “God bless you--whatever happens,” he choked. Then, before she could catch her breath, he swung open the door and, crouching a little, dashed out. He had not gone ten feet before a rifle cracked from the spring-house. Allston crumpled up like an empty sack.