sounding through the rattle of hoofs--her own name--"Helen"; and
yet because of it she did not voice the alarm, but rather began to
piece together, bit by bit, the strange points of this adventure.
She recalled the outlines of her captor with a wrinkle of
perplexity. Her fright disappeared entirely, giving place to
intense excitement. "No, no--it can't be--and yet I wonder if it
IS!" she cried. "Oh, I wonder if it could be!" She opened her lips
to cry aloud, then hesitated. She started towards the tents, then
paused, and for many moments after the hoof-beats had died out she
stayed undecided. Surely she wished to give the signal, to force
the fierce pursuit. What meant this robbery, this defiance of the
law, of her uncle's edicts and of McNamara? They were common
thieves, criminals, outlaws, these men, deserving punishment, and
yet she recalled a darker night, when she herself had sobbed and
quivered with the terrors of pursuit and two men had shielded her
with their bodies.

She turned and sped towards the tents, bursting in through the
canvas door; instantly every man rose to his feet at sight of her
pallid face, her flashing eyes, and rumpled hair.

"Sluice robbers!" she cried, breathlessly. "Quick! A hold-up! The
watchman is hurt!"

A roar shook the night air, and the men poured out past her, while
the day shift came tumbling forth from every quarter in various
stages of undress.

"Where? Who did it? Where did they go?"