"He said you told him he didn't need go beyond the head of the ravine, sir," explained the sergeant, "and as one of the men heard you say so, I didn't feel like making him come along. He started back for camp." "I believe I did promise something like that," I admitted, "and he wouldn't have been much assistance anyway. Well, six men and yourself ought to do the business. Watch the windows, so none get away." Perhaps I should have gone myself, but I was disinclined to leave the room, desirous of getting off my despatch without delay, and possessed implicit confidence in the promptness and discretion of the sergeant. He drew his revolver, the men silently following his example, and the little party slipped quietly out into the hall, the last man closing the door behind him. Evidently they encountered no one in the passageway. Listening intently I heard the dining-room door thrown back violently, a confused noise of feet, of chairs hurriedly pushed aside, a voice uttering a stern order, the sound of a brief struggle, ended by a blow and the thud of a body striking the floor, then numerous voices speaking excitedly, followed by silence. Convinced the work had been accomplished, and that the house was now entirely in our possession, I walked across the room to the desk. Miss Hardy still sat where I had ordered, and I was compelled to pass her chair. Her eyes met mine coldly. "Would you permit me to go across to my father?" she asked. "Most certainly; you are in no sense a prisoner, except I shall have to ask you to remain in the room for the present." She inclined her head ever so slightly. "I shall ask no further favor, and thank you for granting this."