All was still below, save the monotonous ticking of the clock. The settler slept on, all unconscious of this deadly blow that was being dealt him. Opening the slide to throw a faint light before him, Haley began descending the stairs. Twice he paused and listened breathlessly as a stair creaked beneath his foot, but fortune favored him, and he gained the outer door in safety. While he was undoing bolts and bars, Fannie moved restlessly upon his shoulder. Clutching her tightly he hissed a horrible threat in her ear. With a gasping gurgle, she resigned all hope of being rescued. She dared not give the alarm. She felt that instant death would follow, and, even in this great peril, life seemed very sweet to her. Stepping outside, Haley gently closed the door behind him, then with a chuckle of fiendish triumph, he glided rapidly away from the house, toward the stable. Pausing outside, he deposited the maiden upon the ground, then clutched his knife firmly. Only one obstacle now intervened between him and absolute victory, and he had strong hopes that he might avoid this. As the settler showed him the horses he wished to dispose of, Haley noticed a huge dog—an almost full-blooded mastiff—and learned that to his care was confided the stock at night. A sight rope held him to his post, but not strong enough to restrain him should an intruder approach. It was merely to keep his duty before him. Haley, professing great love for dogs, had fondled and caressed the mastiff, with this end in view, and now hoped that he would be allowed to take his own horse without being molested. As he approached the entrance, a deep, warning growl told him that the dog was on guard. Softly whistling, though with ready knife, he stepped within. That the mastiff recognized him was plain, but he resolutely barred the way, growling deeply. A curse gritted through Haley’s teeth, as he saw that only over the dead body of this faithful custodian could he hope to secure his horse. Bending down he caressed the dog, then, like lightning the heavy knife was brought round, sinking to the very hilt in the dog’s side. A half-stifled snarl and the huge brute leaped at the man’s throat, bearing him to the ground like a child. In this moment Haley showed his desperate courage. Not a sound escaped his lips, though the great jaws closed upon his throat. He jerked the knife from its sheath of flesh and plunged it again and again into the quivering body. But this was needless. The dog was already dead. His leap had been merely convulsive, and the jaws barely closed upon Haley’s throat. The teeth did not raze the skin. Flinging the body from him, Haley arose and brushed the blood from his face, then quickly saddled and bridled his horse. Leading him forth, he once more picked up Fannie, mounting with the agility of youth.