A ragged little shadow flitted down the path behind him, and from a

solitary apple-tree, standing like a lonely ghost in the middle of the

field, came the woo of a screech owl--twice. It was answered--twice--

from a clump of elder-bushes that grew in a fence-corner fifty yards west

of the pasture bars. Then the barrel of a squirrel rifle issued, lifted

out of the white elder-blossoms, and lay along the fence. The music in the

house across the way ceased, and Harkless saw two white dresses come out

through the long parlor windows to the veranda.

"It will be cooler out here," came the voice of the singer clearly through

the quiet. "What a night!"

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John vaulted the bars and started to cross the road. They saw him from the

veranda, and Miss Briscoe called to him in welcome. As his tall figure

stood out plainly in the bright light against the white dust, a streak of

fire leaped from the elder-blossoms and there rang out the sharp report of

a rifle. There were two screams from the veranda. One white figure ran

into the house. The other, a little one with a gauzy wrap streaming

behind, came flying out into the moonlight--straight to Harkless. There

was a second report; the rifle-shot was answered by a revolver. William

Todd had risen up, apparently from nowhere, and, kneeling by the pasture

bars, fired at the flash of the rifle.

"Jump fer the shadder, Mr. Harkless," he shouted; "he's in them elders,"

and then: "Fer God's sake, comeback!"

Empty-handed as he was, the editor dashed for the treacherous elder-bush

as fast as his long legs could carry him; but, before he had taken six

strides, a hand clutched his sleeve, and a girl's voice quavered from

close behind him: "Don't run like that, Mr. Harkless; I can't keep up!" He wheeled about,

and confronted a vision, a dainty little figure about five feet high, a

flushed and lovely face, hair and draperies disarranged and flying. He

stamped his foot with rage. "Get back in the house!" he cried.

"You mustn't go," she panted. "It's the only way to stop you."

"Go back to the house!" he shouted, savagely.

"Will you come?"

"Fer God's sake," cried William Todd, "come back! Keep out of the road."

He was emptying his revolver at the clump of elder, the uproar of his

firing blasting the night. Some one screamed from the house: "Helen! Helen!"

John seized the girl's wrists roughly; her gray eyes flashed into his

defiantly. "Will you go?" he roared.

"No!"

He dropped her wrists, caught her up in his arms as if she had been a

kitten, and leaped into the shadow of the trees that leaned over the road

from the yard. The rifle rang out again, and the little ball whistled

venomously overhead. Harkless ran along the fence and turned in at the

gate.




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