stirrup to her bandagedfoot, she turned and quietly thanked Darragh for the clothing.
"And that was a brave thing you did," she added, "-- to risk your lifefor my father's property. Because the morocco case which you savedproved to be empty does not make what you did any less loyal andgallant."
Darragh gazed at her, astounded; took the hand she stretched out to him;held it with a silly expression on his features.
"Hal Smith," she said with perceptible emotion, "I take back what I oncesaid to you on Owl Marsh. No man is a real crook by nature who did whatyou have done. That is `faithfulness unto death' -- the supreme offer-- loyalty----"
Her voice broke; she pressed Darragh's hand convulsively and her lipquivered.
Darragh, with the morocco case full of jewels buttoned into his hippocket, stood motionless, mutely swallowing his amazement.
What in the world did this girl mean, talking about an _empty_ case?
But this was no time to unravel that sort of puzzle. He turned toStormont who, as perplexed as he, had been listening in silence.
"Lead your horse forward," he said. "I know the trail. All you need dois to follow me." And, shouldering his rifle, he walked leisurely intothe woods, the cartridge belt sagging _en bandouliere_ across hiswoollen undershirt.
* * * * *
II
When Stormont gently halted his horse it was dawn, and Eve saggingagainst him with one arm around his neck, sat huddled up on her saddlefast asleep.
In a birch woods, on the eastern slope of the divide, stood the logcamp, dimly visible in the silvery light of early morning.
Darragh, cautioning Stormont with a slight gesture, went forward,mounted the rustic veranda, and knocked at a lighted window.
A man, already dressed, came and peered out at him, then hurried to openthe door.
"I didn't know you, Captain Darragh----" he began, but fell silent underthe warning gesture that checked him.
"I've a guest outside. She's Clinch's step-daughter, Eve Strayer. Sheknows me by the name of Hal Smith. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir----"
"Cut _that_ out, too. I'm Hal Smith to you, also. State TrooperStormont is out here with Eve Strayer. He was a comrade of mine inRussia. I'm Hal Smith to him, by mutual agreement. _Now_ do you getme, Ralph?"
"Sure, Hal. Go on; spit it out!"
They both grinned.
"You're a hootch runner," said Darragh. "This is your shack. Thehatchery is only a blind. That's all you have to know, Ralph. So putthat girl into my room and let her sleep till she wakes of her ownaccord.
"Stormont and I will take two of the guest-bunks in the L. And forheaven's sake make us some coffee when you make your own. But firstcome out and take the horse."
They went out together. Stormont lifted Eve out of the saddle. She didnot wake. Darragh led the way into the log house and along a corridorto his own room.
"Turn down the sheets," whispered Stormont. And, when the bed wasready: "Can you get a bath towel, Jim?"
Darragh fetched one from the connecting bath-room.
"Wrap it around her wet hair," whispered Stormont. "Good heavens, Iwish there were a woman here."
"I wish so too," said Darragh; "she's chilled to the bone. You'll haveto wake her. She can't sleep in what she's wearing; it's almost as dampas her hair----"
He went to the closet and returned with a man's morning robe, as soft asfleece.
"Somehow or other she's got to get into that," he said.
There was a silence.
"Very well," said Stormont, reddening. ... "If you'll step out I'll --manage. ..." He looked Darragh straight in the eyes: "I have asked herto marry me," he said.
* * * * *
When Stormont came out a great fire of birch-logs was blazing in theliving-room, and Darragh stood there, his elbow on the rough stonemantel-shelf.
Stormont came straight to the fire and set one spurred boot on thefender.
"She's warm and dry and sound asleep," he said. "I'll wake her again ifyou think she ought to swallow something hot."
At that moment the fish-culturist came in with a pot of steaming coffee.
"This is my friend, Ralph Wier," said Darragh. "I think you'd bettergive Eve a cup of coffee." And, to Wier, "Fill a couple of hot waterbags, old chap. We don't want any pneumonia in this house."
When breakfast was ready Eve once more lay asleep with a slight dew ofperspiration on her brow.
Darragh was half starved: Stormont ate little. Neither spoke at alluntil, satisfied, they rose, ready for sleep.
At the door of his room Stormont took Darragh's offered hand,understanding what it implied:
"Thanks, Jim. ... Hers is the loveliest character I have ever known. ...If I weren't as poor as a homeless dog I'd marry her to-morrow. ... I'lldo it anyway, I think. ... I _can't_ let her go back to Clinch's Dump!"
"After all," said Darragh, smiling, "if it's only money that worriesyou, why not talk about a job to _me!_"
Stormont flushed heavily: "That's rather wonderful of you, Jim----"
"Why? You're the best officer I had. Why the devil did you go into theConstabulary without talking to me?"
Stormont's upper lip seemed inclined to twitch but he controlled it andscowled at space.
"Go to bed, you darned fool," said Darragh, carelessly. "You'll finddry things ready. Ralph will take care of your uniform and boots."
Then he went into his own quarters to read two letters which, conformingto arrangements made with Mrs. Ray the day he had robbed Emanuel Sard,were to be sent to Trout Lodge to await his arrival.
Both, written from the Ritz, bore the date of the day before: the firsthe opened was from the countess Orloff-Strelwitz:
"Dear Captain Darragh:
"-- You are so wonderful! Your messenger, with the _ten_ thousanddollars which you say you already have recovered from those miscreantswho robbed Ricca, came aboard our ship before we landed. It was agodsend; we were nearly penniless, -- and oh, _so_ shabby!
"Instantly, my friend, we shopped, Ricca and I. Fifth Avenueenchanted us. All misery was forgotten in the magic of that paradisefor women.
"Yet, spendthrifts that we naturally are, we were not silly enough tobe extravagant. Ricca was wild for American sport-clothes. I, also.Yet -- only _two_ gowns apiece, excepting our sport clothes. And othernecessaries. Don't you think we were economical?"
"Furthermore, dear Captain Darragh, we are hastening to follow yourinstructions. We are leaving to-day for your chateau in the wonderfulforest, of which you told us of that never-to-be-day in Riga.
"Your agent is politeness, consideration and kindness itself. We haveour accommodations. We leave New York at midnight.
"Ricca is so excited that it is difficult for her to restrain herhappiness. God knows the child has seen enough unhappiness to quenchthe gaiety of anybody!
"Well, all things end. Even tears. Even the Red Terror shall passfrom our beloved Russia. For, after all, Monsieur, God still lives.
"VALENTINE."
"P.S. Ricca has written to you. I have read the letter. I have letit go uncensored."
* * * * *
Darragh went to the door of his room:
"Ralph! Ralph!" he called. And, when Wier hurriedly appeared:
"What time does the midnight train from New York get into Five Lakes?"
"A little before nine----"
"You can make it in the flivver, can't you?"
"Yes, if I start _now._"
"All right. Two ladies. You're to bring them to the _house,_ not_here._ Mrs. Ray knows about them. And -- get back here as soon as youcan."
He closed his door again, sat down on the bed and opened the otherletter. His hand shook as he unfolded it. He was so scared and excitedthat he could scarcely decipher the angular, girlish penmanship:
* * * * *
"To dear Captain Darragh, our champion and friend--
"It is difficult for me, Mo
nsieur, to express my happiness and my deepgratitude in the so cold formality of the written page.
"Alas, sir, it will be still more difficult to find words for it whenagain I have the happiness of greeting you in proper person.
"Valentine has told you everything, she warns me, and I am, therefore,somewhat at a loss to know what I should write to you.
"Yes, I know very well what I would write if I dare. It is this: thatI wish you to know -- although it may not pass the censor -- that I ammost impatient to see you, Monsieur. _Not_ because of kindness past,nor with an unworthy expectation of benefits to come. But because offriendship, -- _the deepest, sincerest of