“Wouldn't that be smart, now! To leave you where you could blab the whole thing!” She tried to walk a few steps farther; then she broke away, stumbled to the roadside, and, sinking to the ground, covered her face with her hands. Roche stopped short and stared at her. The other spoke up: “This won't do, Joe. There's no use killing her. We 'll drop back in the woods and take a rest. We 'll all be better for it.” McGlory sullenly consented. He dragged Estelle off through the undergrowth to the clearer ground under the trees, and they all stretched out. In five minutes Roche was the only one awake of the three men. Without raising his head he slipped over close to Estelle and rested his hand on her shoulder. She rolled over with a start. “S-sh! Not so loud, Estelle.” “Oh, it's you?” “Yes. You didn't think I'd forgot, did you, Estelle?” “I--I don't understand.” “Don't you think it's time to quit 'em? What's the use? I guess you know him now for what he is.” “Yes, he's mean to me. But--” “Don't you see--we can skip out and leave 'em here, and go back near the house and hide. He wouldn't dast come back after us. The boss wouldn't never let him.” “Do you think we could? I'm afraid. He wouldn't stop at anything.” “You just leave it to me. I can take care o' _him:_” “I--I'm afraid. He's so determined. And I told him I'd go with him.” “What was he a-doin' back there in the house after he sent you out?” “I don't know.” “Not so loud--whisper. Didn't you hear him say anything?” “He asked for a pen and paper.” “Must 'a' wrote a letter. There it is--look there--sticking out of his pocket. Wait a minute.” “Don't you try to take it. He 'll shoot you.” “Oh, damn him! I ain't afraid of two Joe McGlorys. Lemme go.” He crept over, drew out the letter skilfully, and returned. “I don't like to strike a match here--” “Oh, no, no--don't!” “Can you crawl off a little ways--behind them bushes?” “I guess so; I 'll try.” He helped her. “S-sh--careful.” Behind the bushes they felt safer. Roche lighted a match and held up the paper. This is what they read:-- “Dear Madge: There's a little misunderstanding up this way and I can't get back for a little while I want some money you put the bills in a envelope to generel dilivry South Bend Indiana. Don't you try to come to me because it ain't a very pleasent situation I 'll tell you later where to come don't forget the money and don't you put my name on it call me Joe Murphy. Burn this soon as you read it. “J.” Neither saw the insolent brutality of this letter; their thoughts were elsewhere. Estelle gazed, thunderstruck. Roche held the match until it burned his finger. As he dropped it and the paper to the ground, and the dark closed in again, one of the sleepers tossed and mumbled. Estelle caught his arm. “He told me it wasn't so,” she whispered. “He told me it wasn't so.” “Oh, he's just a common, everyday liar. Madge is his wife. Didn't I tell you so the first day I come to Spencer's?”