Lawless was late in getting back to the shanty. The light had fallen and night was settling upon the land. While he was still a good way off he discerned the house by the flickering yellow glimmer of the candles Tottie had put in the window as a landmark for him. It was the only means of illumination she had at hand. There was an oil lamp in the house, but the paraffin, which Lawless was bringing with him, had been forgotten on the day of their arrival. He gave a short sharp whistle as he rode up, and she opened the door and came forth to meet him. "Lend a hand at unloading," he said, swinging himself out of the saddle. "The pack's heavy. Come round this side." She helped him lift the sacks from the back of the led horse, and accompanied him to the stable to settle the animals for the night, carrying a dripping tallow-candle in her hand, by the feeble light of which they accomplished their task. Lawless was very silent, almost taciturn, while he off-saddled and rubbed down his weary horse, giving to Tottie's gossiping inquiries curt monosyllabic replies. "Tired, Grit?" she asked, noting his preoccupation. He swore. "It's something more than tired," he said. They left the stables, and walking back to where they had deposited the sacks, lifted them, and carried them indoors. "Got my paper?" she inquired. He took the newspaper from his pocket and flung it on the table with an oath. The woman looked at him searchingly. It occurred to her that he had been drinking. If it were not that, something had happened to put him out. Lawless suddenly approached the table and struck the paper, lying where he had flung it, with his open hand. "They've bungled this business again," he said savagely,--"that pompous fool, Grey, and his crony, Simmonds... Simmonds has gone to his account, poor devil! And Van Bleit's in tronk, awaiting his trial for murder." Tottie's mouth fell open. "And the letters?" she gasped. Having fired his bomb. Lawless cooled down. He took out his pipe, filled, and lighted it, and dropped wearily into a chair. "You'll read it all in the paper," he said. "There's no mention of the letters." He gave a short laugh. "My little plan, which I've rehearsed to you, in which you were to help, is knocked on the head. I might just as well never have come here. It's that crass, pig-headed, officious old muddler's doing. He never trusted me... He fancies I've done a bunk... That's because you're in it." He laughed again. "It hasn't occurred to them that you might be useful--I'm supposed to be simply enjoying myself." He smoked for a few minutes at a furious rate, while Tottie opened and read the paper with her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. "It's a case of the biter bit," observed Lawless. "Looks as though they had intended murdering him... A silly sort of a game." "Do you think Van Bleit will hang for it?" she asked presently.