Before his companion could reply, the coach came to a sudden standstill, and both of the men within heard their driver's voice in earnest colloquy with some one standing by the roadside. "It is the girl's father, or friends, who have just discovered her absence and have been scouring the country about to find her," gasped the fraudulent Lester Armstrong, and the hand that grasped his companion's arm shook like an aspen leaf. "Don't be a coward!" hissed Halloran. "If worst comes to worst, whoever it is can share the girl's fate," and with these words he opened the door of the coach, asking sharply, angrily: "What is the matter, driver?" "Nothing, save a poor old fellow who wants me to give him a lift on the box beside me. He has lost his way. He's an old grave digger, who says he lives hereabouts, somewhere. He's half frozen with the cold tramping about. I told him 'Yes, climb up;' it's a little extra work for the horses, but I suppose as long as I don't mind it you'll not object." "Ha! Satan always helps his own out of difficulties," whispered Halloran to his companion; and, without waiting for a reply, he was out of the coach like a flash, and his hand was on the old grave digger's arm ere he could make the ascent to the box beside the driver. "Wait a moment, my good friend," said Halloran, "we have a little work which you of all persons are best fitted to perform for us ere we proceed." Old Adam, the grave digger, looked at the tall gentleman before him in some little perplexity, answering, slowly: "I hope you will not take it amiss, sir, if I answer that I do not fully comprehend your words." "Perhaps not; but permit me to make them clear to you, in as plain English as I can command. I want you to dig a grave here and now." "A grave--here!" echoed Adam, quite believing his old ears were not serving him truly--that he had certainly not heard aright. "That is what I said," returned Halloran, grimly. "But, sir!" began old Adam, "this is no graveyard." "Curse you, who said it was?" cut in the other, sharply. "It is not to be thought of, sir," murmured the grave digger, trembling in every limb, his brain too bewildered to try to reason out the meaning of this strange request, and quite believing the stranger must be an escaped lunatic. Coolly and deliberately Halloran drew a revolver from his pocket, and placed it at Adam's throbbing temple, saying, grimly, and harshly: "You will do as I command or your life will pay the forfeit. I give you one moment of time to decide." It was a moment so fraught with tragic horror that in all the after years of his life Adam always looked back to it with a shudder of deadly fear. He was no longer young--the sands of life were running slower than in the long ago--still, life was sweet to him, ah, very sweet. He had a good wife and little bairns at home, and an aged mother, to whom he was very dear, and he was their only support.