Editha could scarcely breathe, his hand was so heavily pressed over her mouth and nostrils, and she was absolutely powerless in the strong man’s grasp. She knew she was at his mercy, but she knew also that he could not get possession of her treasure without removing his hand from her face, which would give her an advantage over him, because she could call for help. So, instead of nodding her head as he had commanded her to do, she resolutely signified her defiance by a decided shake. The man uttered a round oath at this. Evidently he had not anticipated any such determined resistance, and for a moment he appeared undecided what to do. “I’d like to strangle what little life there is left in that traitor out of him,” he muttered, angrily, referring to John Loker. His sentence was hardly completed when he uttered a suppressed howl. Editha’s white teeth had suddenly closed over the fleshy part of his palm with a force that made him cringe with pain, and at the same time remove something of the pressure over her mouth. Taking advantage of this, she threw back her head with a violent motion and sent forth a shrill cry for help. The cry was her salvation, and help was nearer than either of them thought. A quick, firm tread soon sounded upon the pavement, and then the tall form of a policeman became visible close at hand. The villain saw that his “game was up,” and that the wisest thing for him to do would be to get out of the way, and, with another fierce oath, he released his hold upon his victim and beat a hasty and inglorious retreat, vowing vengeance upon her in the future. With succor at hand, and the disappearance of her captor, Editha’s courage and strength failed her utterly. Her nerves had received a terrible shock, for which she of necessity had now to pay the penalty. She did not faint, nor go into hysterics, nor make any Other disturbance, but she clung in speechless terror and trembling to the sturdy policeman who had come to her aid. “Are you hurt, miss? Did the villain _dare_ to hurt you?” he asked, sternly. “No, not much; but, oh, oh! he frightened me terribly,” she whispered, shaking as with the ague, and her teeth chattering audibly. “Poor thing! poor thing! this is a bad place for such as you to be in,” he answered, pityingly. “I thought to watch for you,” he continued, “until you came out from John Loker’s house, and then take you safely through this dismal street; but there was a scrimmage down here apiece, and I had to go. But I was a sort ’o looking for you as I came along back, and I suspected at once that it was you when I heard you cry out. Did the wretch steal anything from you?” “No; but he wanted something which he knew I had, and I wouldn’t give it to him.” “_Wouldn’t_, eh?” repeated the policeman, with a little chuckle at her spirit and resolute tone. “Should you know him if you should ever meet him again?” he asked, presently.