“Never mind me,” whispered Gordon. He was leaning heavily on Jim’s shoulder. His face was pale, but he smiled reassuringly. There was something very sweet about his mouth when he smiled. “Never mind me,” he repeated. “Get the girls out of this—quick, Paul.” Mary and Louise had sought refuge behind the big table. “Quick, the back door!” cried Langford, leading the way; and as the three passed out, he closed the door behind them, saying, “You are all right now. Run to the hotel. I must see how Dick is coming on.” “Do you think he is badly hurt?” asked Louise. “Can’t we help?” “I think you had best get out of this as quickly as you can. I don’t believe he is knocked out, by any means, but I want to be on hand for any future events which may be called. Just fly now, both of you.” The unfair blow in the stomach had given the sympathy of most of the bystanders, for the time being at least, to Gordon. Men forgot, momentarily, their grudge against him. Understanding from the black looks that he was not in touch with the crowd, Sanderson laughed—a short snort of contempt—and slipped out of the door. Unable to resist the impulse, Jim bounded out after his enemy. When Paul hastened around to the front of the building, the crowd was nearly all in the street. The tension was relaxed. A dazed expression prevailed—brought to life by the suddenness with which the affair had developed to such interesting proportions and the quickness with which it had flattened out to nothing. For Sanderson had disappeared, completely, mysteriously, and in all the level landscape, there was no trace of him nor sign. “See a balloon, Jim?” asked Langford, slapping him on the shoulder with the glimmer of a smile. “Well, your red-headed friend won’t be down in a parachute—yet. Are you all right, Dick, old man?” “Yes. Where are the girls?” “They are all right. I took them through the back door and sent them to the hotel.” “You kin bet on the Boss every time when it comes to petticoats,” said Jim, disconsolately. “Why, Jim, what’s up?” asked Langford, in amused surprise. But Jim only turned and walked away with his head in the air. The serpent was leering at him. CHAPTER VIII THE COUNTY ATTORNEY “I too am going to Wind City,” said a pleasant voice at her side. “You will let me help you with your things, will you not?” The slender girl standing before the ticket window, stuffing change into her coin purse, turned quickly. “Why, Mr. Gordon,” she said, holding out a small hand with frank pleasure. “How very nice! Thank you, will you take my rain-coat? It has been such a bother. I would bring it right in the face of Uncle Hammond’s objections. He said it never rained out this way. But I surely have suffered a plenty for my waywardness. Don’t you think so?”