place wherein to put the senseless Chip. He first searched the wounded
man's pockets, and, finding the key, released the handcuffs from
Moriarity.

The latter, seeing Cummings hesitate, and divining the cause, said in a
questioning voice:

"Why not take him to the widow's, Jim?"

"I would a damned sight rather put him through the ice, but its too
thick for me. Do you think we can carry him between us?"

"It would never do to let people see us two with a dead man between us."

"Then you must go up town and get a hack."

Moriarity turned back to the shore, and climbing the bank, hurried in
the direction of the city.

Left alone with his victim, the desperado bent over him, placing his
hand on Chip's heart. It beat steadily, though not strongly, and
Cummings experienced a feeling of relief when he felt the regular
pulsations,

He had never yet shed blood, and his first passion having died out, he
was glad that the thick ice had defeated his first purpose.

The stunned detective stirred, the cold, crisp air was reviving him, and
Cummings, his better nature asserting itself, hastily doffed his
overcoat and threw it over the recumbent form of his captive.