“He--he's coming.” She staggered. Roche caught her, helped her down the steps, and with his arm about her waist led her out to the road. “He says to go along, and he 'll catch us.” She was plucky, or frightened, for she staggered along biting her lip. This was what McGlory had said to Van Deelen after he had got her to the door: “Give me some paper and a pen--quick!” They were promptly placed on the diningroom table; and he scrawled off a few lines, folded the paper, and looked up with a scowl. The strain of the week had not improved his expression. “Give me an envelope; I want you to mail this for me.” “I haven't got one.” “The------you haven't!” “Honest--that's the truth. I'd have to go to Hewittson, anyway. It 'll be quicker for you to take--” “Oh, shut up. I'm sick o' your voice. Here, take this.” He thrust the letter into his pocket and counted out twenty-five dollars in bills. “This is for you. And mind, nothing said. You don't know us--never seen four men coming through here in the night. Don't remember ever having seen four men come through. Understand?” Van Deelen drew back a step, and nodded. “No mistake about this now. If you say a word, the world ain't big enough to hide you.” His hand was straying toward a significant pocket. “None of your hemmings and haw-ings--if you're in a hurry to get to heaven, just give us away. Understand?” Another nod,--all the farmer was capable of; and McGlory was gone with a bound, out the door, on toward the little group at the farther side of the clearing. They heard his step and his loud breathing. “What's this?” He had just made out Roche's arm across Estelle's back. “What's _this?_” He tore the arm away, whirled Roche around, and slapped his face so hard that he---- “By------!” gasped Roche. “By------!” They glared at each other; Estelle sobbed. “Try that again, Joe McGlory! Just try it! Hit me again! Why, you--why, I 'll break your neck!” “_You_ will?” “Yes, I will. Just hit me again!” McGlory looked him over, decided to accept the invitation, and plunged forward. Roche, without a moment's hesitation, turned and bolted up the road,--ran as if the fiends were on his heels. McGlory finally stopped, laughed viciously, and hurled a curse after him. The third man let them go; he merely took Estelle's arm and helped her along, soothing her a little, trying to calm the outburst of hysteria that had been threatening for twenty-four hours. McGlory waited for them in the shadow of the woods; and a little farther on Roche fell in behind, muttering softly, and keeping well away from McGlory. Estelle could hardly stagger along. McGlory passed his arm through hers and dragged her forward. Now she was silent, now she stifled a sob, now she begged piteously to be left behind. “Let me go back to Van Deelen's, Joe--please! I can't go on.” “I thought you was such a walker.” “Oh, but--not so far as this. Let me go back there.”