Having slandered the innocent Gringo, Mrs. Morrell stayed for a chat. Apparently she was always just on the point of departure, but never went. Nan, being, as she thought, in the wrong as to the worthy Gringo, tried her best to be polite, but was miserably conscious of being snippy. At the end of an hour the door bell rang again. If Nan had been watching, she might have seen Mrs. Morrell's body relax as though from a tension. After a moment Wing Sam shuffled into the room carrying a soiled folded paper. "Man he tell you lead this chop-chop," said he. Murmuring an apology, Nan opened the paper. With a cry she sprang to her feet. Her face had gone white. "What is it?" cried Mrs. Morrell in apparent anxiety. Without a word Nan extended the paper. Written in pencil were these words: MADAM: Your husband has been injured in an attempt at arrest. He wants me to tell you he is at Jake's Place hurt bad. With respects. JOHN Q. ALDER. For an instant Mrs. Morrell did not dare look up. She was thoroughly angry at what she thought to be her husband's stupidity. "Why, that wouldn't deceive a child!" she thought contemptuously. "How dreadful! Who is Alder?" she said, merely to say something. Nan shook her head. "I don't know," she replied rather wildly. "One of the Vigilantes, I suppose. I must go out there. At once!" She ran to the hall where she began to rummage for cloaks. Mrs. Morrell followed her in wonderment. She was going to take this crude bait after all! Mrs. Morrell had not the slightest idea Nan still loved her husband. "You can't go alone!" she cried in apparent sympathy. "You poor child! Jake's Place--at this time of night!" "I'd go to hell if he needed me there!" cried Nan. Mrs. Morrell became suddenly capable and commanding. "Then I shall go with you," she announced firmly. "Oh, you're good to me!" cried Nan, full of contrition, and feeling, beneath her anxiety, that she had misjudged her neighbour's heart. Mrs. Morrell took charge. She lit the lantern, led the way to the stable, did the most toward harnessing the horse. They made rather a mess of it, but the horse was gentle and reliable. When they had backed the buggy out of the barn, she insisted on driving. "You're in no fit condition," she told Nan, and Nan obediently climbed in beside her. The drive was made in silence, except that occasionally Nan urged hurry. She sat bolt upright, her hands clasped in her lap, her figure rigid, trying to keep hold of herself. At Jake's Place a surly hostler appeared and led away their horse. Jake's Place was in darkness save for one lighted room on the ground floor and a dimly illuminated bar at the other end.