For a full minute Neil made no answer. And his answer, when it did come, first of all was a laugh. "By George, that's good!" he cried exultingly. "Of course you were searched--and by Jeekum! He knows, but he hasn't made a report of it to Strang because he believes that in some way he will get hold of the money. He is taking a big risk--but he's winning! I wonder what his first scheme was?" "Thought I'd bury it, perhaps," vouchsafed Nathaniel, throwing himself upon the straw. "There's room for two here, Neil." A long silence fell between them. The action during the last few minutes had been too great an effort for Nathaniel and his wound troubled him again. As the pain and his terrible thoughts of Marion's fate returned to him he regretted that they had not ended it all in one last fight at the door. There, at least, they might have died like men instead of waiting to be shot down like dogs, their hands bound behind them, their breasts naked to the Mormon rifles. He did not fear death. In more than one game he had played against its hand, more often for love of the sport than not, but there was a horror in being penned up and tortured by it. He had come to look upon it as a fair enemy, filled of course with subterfuge and treachery, which were the laws of the game; but he had never dreamed of it as anything but merciful in its quickness. It was as if his adversary had broken an inviolable pact with him and he sweated and tossed on his bed of straw while Neil sat cool and silent on the bench against the dungeon wall. Sheer exhaustion brought him relief, and after a time he fell asleep. He was awakened by Neil. The white face of Marion's brother was over him when he opened his eyes and he was shaking him roughly by the shoulder. "Wake up, Nat!" he cried. "For Heaven's sake--wake up!" He drew back as Nathaniel sleepily roused himself. "I couldn't help it, Nat," he apologized, laughing nervously. "You've lain there like a dead man for hours. My head is splitting with this damned silence. Come--smoke up! I got some tobacco from our jailer and he loaned me his pipe." Nathaniel jumped to his feet. A fresh candle was burning on the table and in its light he saw that a startling change had come into Neil's face during the hours he had slept. It looked to him thinner and whiter, its lines had deepened, and the young man's eyes were filled with gloomy dejection. "Why didn't you awaken me sooner?" he exclaimed. "I deserve a good drubbing for leaving you alone here!" He saw fresh food on the table. "It's late--" he began. "That is our dinner and supper," interrupted Neil. He held his watch close to the candle. "Half past eight!" "And no word--from--" "No." The two men looked deeply into each other's eyes.