The invaders ransacked thoroughly, while a dozen times the hearts
of Cherry Malotte and her two companions stopped, then lunged
onward, as McNamara or Voorhees approached, then passed the stove.
At last Voorhees lifted the lid and peered into its dark interior.
At the same instant the girl cried out, sharply, flinging herself
from her position, while the marshal jerked his head back in time
to see her dash upon Dextry.

"Don't! Don't!" She cried her appeal to the old man. "Keep cool.
You'll be sorry, Dex--they're almost through."

The officer had not seen any movement on Dextry's part, but
doubtless her quick eye had detected signs of violence. McNamara
emerged, glowering, from the back room at that moment.

"Let them hunt," the girl was saying, while Dextry stared dazedly
over her head. "They won't find anything. Keep cool and don't act
rash."

Voorhees's duties sat uncomfortably upon him at the best, and,
looking at the smouldering eyes of the two men, he became averse
to further search in a powdery household whose members itched to
shoot him in the back.

"It isn't here," he reported; but the politician only scowled,
then spoke for the first time directly to the partners:

"I've got warrants for both of you and I'm tempted to take you in,
but I won't. I'm not through yet--not by any means. I'll get you--
get you both." He turned out of the door, followed by the marshal,