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“You’re my prisoner, now!” he shouted cheerfully. “Hands up!”

The man raised his arms slowly, as if he were lifting heavy dumb-bells.

“The lady called for help,” he said. “I came to help her.”

“No! No!” protested the girl. “He did not help me! He said he would choke me if I didn’t–“

“He said he would–what!” bellowed Lathrop. He leaped to his feet, and sent the gun spinning through the window. He stepped toward the man gingerly, on the balls of his feet, like one walking on ice. The man seemed to know what that form of approach threatened, for he threw his arms into a position of defence.

“You bully!” whispered Lathrop. “You coward! You choke women, do you?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, his body balancing forward, his arms swinging limply in front of him. With his eyes, he seemed to undress the man, as though choosing a place to strike.

“I made the same mistake you did,” he taunted. “I should have killed you first. Now I am going to do it!”

He sprang at the man, his chin still sunk on his chest, but with his arms swinging like the spokes of a wheel. His opponent struck back heavily, violently, but each move of his arm seemed only to open up some vulnerable spot. Blows beat upon his chin, upon his nose, his eyes; blows jabbed him in the ribs, drove his breath from his stomach, ground his teeth together, cut the flesh from his cheeks. He sank to his knees, with his arms clasping his head.

“Get up!” roared Lathrop. “Stand up to it, you coward!”

But the man had no idea of standing up to it. Howling with pain, he scrambled toward the door, and fled staggering down the hall.

At the same moment the automobile that a few minutes before had passed up the road came limping to the gate, and a half-dozen men in uniform sprang out of it. From the window Lathrop saw them spread across the lawn and surround the house.

“They’ve got him!” he said. He pointed to the prostrate figure on the floor. “He and the other one,” he explained, breathlessly, “are New York crooks! They have been looting in the wake of the Reds, disguised as soldiers. I knew they weren’t even amateur soldiers by the mistakes in their make-up, and I made that bluff of riding away so as to give them time to show what the game was. Then, that provost guard in the motor car stopped me, and when they said who they were after, I ordered them back here. But they had a flat tire, and my bicycle beat them.”

In his excitement he did not notice that the girl was not listening, that she was very pale, that she was breathing quickly, and trembling.

“I’ll go tell them,” he added, “that the other one they want is up here.”

Miss Farrar’s strength instantly returned.

With a look of terror at the now groaning figure on the floor, she sprang toward Lathrop, with both hands clutching him by his sleeves.

“You will not!” she commanded. “You will not leave me alone!”

Appealingly she raised her face to his startled countenance. With a burst of tears she threw herself into his arms. “I’m afraid!” she sobbed. “Don’t leave me. Please, no matter what I say, never leave me again!”

Between bewilderment and joy, the face of Lathrop was unrecognizable. As her words reached him, as he felt the touch of her body in his arms, and her warm, wet cheek against his own, he drew a deep sigh of content, and then, fearfully and tenderly, held her close.

After a pause, in which peace came to all the world, he raised his head.

“Don’t worry!” he said. “You can bet I won’t leave you!”