“Oh, but you will have to. You are employed by these people. Do you want them to suspect you of double-dealing? Remember, Miss Trask, it is the law you are fighting now.” “I shall tell them the truth.” “You must tell them that you came here--to arrest me. I am your prisoner. You must tell them that.” “I won’t!” she exclaimed. “You must do this, Miss Trask. You must protect yourself.” “I will tell them it is all a mistake--that you are innocent,” she said. “I will tell them that you are not the man they want.” “What good will it do?” Nash asked. “What good, Miss Trask? You have no proofs.” “Oh, but I cannot tell them what you wish me to!” she protested, over and over again. “I cannot!” “Listen to me, Miss Trask,” Nash answered, speaking swiftly now, for the pounding of the motor on the up grade was becoming more and more distinct. “It is the right way--the only way. It will protect your reputation. Think of what it all means. You have informed them of my supposedly crooked dealings, and now they discover you in my cabin--apparently aiding me to escape. Can’t you understand what a serious matter it will be?” “But I refuse to tell them that I----” The machine had stopped outside of the door. In another moment the detectives would be inside the cabin. There was but one method open to Nash; it was a brutal one, but to clear the girl’s name, he resolved to take it. “Miss Trask,” he said, “you must not help me. You must do as I have said. A moment ago you told me that there was but one object which led you to accept this work. Well, you have succeeded. I am the man you wanted to find.” She stared at him dully, unable to grasp his meaning. Footsteps came heavily across the board porch. “I--I don’t understand!” she gasped. “I don’t----” Nash clenched his hands. “Miss Trask--I am the man who shot your brother. Now you must do as I say.” The color drained from her face and she sank back against the wall, as if Nash’s declaration had been a stinging lash. Her lips moved, but no sound issued from them. Then, reverberating in the silence, came a loud knock upon the door. It was not answered. A second one came, louder and more determined. “Come in!” Nash said. The door was thrown open, and two men stepped inside. They were both strangers to Nash. While one of the men stood near the door, as if to prevent any escape, the other moved warily toward Nash. “Are you Elliot Nash?” he demanded. “I am,” the engineer responded. “Then I’m sorry to say I’ve a warrant here for your arrest.” As he spoke he drew back his coat, and Nash found himself looking upon a detective’s badge. Nash only smiled, and looked across at the girl, who all this time had been standing weakly against the wall. “I’m afraid you’re too late, gentlemen,” he announced. “I have already surrendered to Miss Breen.” Both men looked toward the girl. Then the spokesman laughed, and nodded, apparently acquainted with her.