“When coldness or deceit shall slight the beauty now they prize; When hollow hearts shall wear a mask, 'twill break your own to see. At such a moment I but ask that you'll remember me, you'll--” By this time the girl was sobbing in Dick's arms, and the misunderstandings of four years were soon explained. The Singer-Lady lifted her head at last to the sound of galloping horses. Dick was looking calmly in their direction. Terror seized her. “What is that?” “You must return to the house. They must not see you here.” She clung to him with the wail of a breaking heart. “It is the sheriff and his deputies. This morning George and I were on the Folsom stage. We were stopped by a deputy sheriff and sternly requested to alight. We entered into conversation with the gentleman of the law--whom I had met several times before” (with a grim smile), “and finally George, with due deference to authority, demanded to be shown the warrant for our arrest. “Whilst the simple creature was fumbling for it, we opened fire and, springing from the top of the stage, escaped across Harmon Hill. The vain fellow carried only a derringer, and how was one little bullet to stop our race for liberty.” “Yet you returned here! That was madness.” “I heard of you and the longing to see you once more overcame every other feeling.” “Do not fear, I knew that they would come. What was that to pay for the chance of seeing you again. They can but put me in Auburn jail, and no locks can hold me except the shining ones on this dear head. No prison can keep me till I am laid in that last one beneath the grass, and there I will wait for you dear love. I shall not hear the celestian singing till your sweet voice has joined the angel choir, and your two hands--see, I still carry the little mitts--shall open the door for me to Paradise, as they have held all of heaven for me on earth. “It may be in that last court, the Great judge of all will look into my heart which strove to be honorable and will dismiss the accusations of mere, mortal man.” * * * * * As usual, Dick escaped the jail and with George Taylor attempted to get away, but Fate had dealt him her last blow and on the scroll of his precarious and bitter life had written finis. A mile above Auburn they were overtaken by Assessor George W. Martin and Deputy Sheriffs Crutcher and Johnston. In the terrible encounter which ensued Martin was instantly killed and Dick mortally wounded. They rode more than a mile at a furious pace, from the scene of his last fight, before Dick lay down to die. George put him on his great riding cloak and spread a saddle blanket over him. Then when he read a fresh command in the highwayman's dark eyes he faltered. “Dick, old friend--I cannot.” “I am shot through the breast, and again through the side. You promised that when I came to this pass, you would grant the liberation I seek in death.” “I cannot. From any hand but mine may you find release.”