With a wildly beating heart, and dilating, frightened eyes, Editha looked up and down the sidewalk, hoping to catch sight of the friendly policeman again. But he was nowhere to be seen, and there were very few people to be either seen or heard, every one who was fortunate enough to have a shelter having sought its protection against the storm. Drawing her cloak closer about her, and calling all her resolution to her aid, she sped her way, half expecting that at every step some horrible creature would rise up and confront her, demanding the precious treasure that lay so close above her fluttering heart. But no such person was in sight, and no one appeared to be following her; and, gaining courage from the fact, she grew more calm, and began to breathe more freely, as she almost flew over the way. She had nearly gained a more public street, where she could see the friendly lights glimmering and beckoning her on, and where, once reached, she intended taking a car home. Her courage arose with every step; she had only one more low, ill-looking building to pass, then an open space, before she would be where no possible harm could come to her. Her heart beat lightly and cried out within her: “Victory! victory!” for now Earle would be free from all taint or suspicion—he could hereafter proudly face the whole world, and no one would dare to point the finger of scorn at him again. How happy she would be to be able to give him this evidence when he should return. She had never dared to think that _she_ would be the one to bestow upon him such exceeding joy, and she hugged to her bosom with a strange feeling of exultation the closely-penciled paper that was to accomplish all this. The low building was nearly passed—two minutes more and she would be—— Safe! she would have added; but a sudden shock prevented her ever finishing the interrupted thought. A heavy hand dropped upon her shoulder like the stroke of a hammer, and a fierce voice whispered in her ear: “Make no noise and I will do you no harm; scream _once_, and I’ll choke you; but I must have that paper that John Loker signed for you.” She knew the instant she felt the touch of that hand—before even a word was uttered—_who_ it was that had captured her there in the darkness and rain. She did not need the aid of a light to know that a burly head, with flaming red hair, and an ugly face, with a scar under the right eye, and an ear with part of the lobe gone, towered above her; she could almost _feel_ that the hand lying so heavily upon her was minus a portion of the little finger, and a shudder ran through her as it flashed upon her how much of crime that hand was guilty of, and might be stained even more deeply, yet, before it should be removed from her. The sudden shock seemed to paralyze her for the moment, so that she was powerless to resist. She _could_ not have cried out, even if his threat had not intimidated her, so terrible was the fright she sustained.