"We might win that reward."

The woman shuddered and covered her face with her hands.

"Do you know, Iris?" he proceeded, with the utmost coolness, "I saw that
girl, Victoria Vane, before she was killed. I tell you, she was quite
sweet on me."

A groan alone answered him.

"There was money in the house, and I managed to handle some of it,"
continued the man. "I supposed, or rather, I expected to make more out of
that haul, but only got a few paltry dollars. I expect some poor tramp
will be arrested for the murder of the girl, and hang, like enough."

"And you--you killed her?

"That would be telling, my dear. These girls get a fellow into a deuce of
a scrape sometimes, let alone a fellow's wife. But, my dear, let's drop
this subject and talk of something more agreeable."

The creak of a door startled both.

The man seemed startled.

He turned his head, then came to his feet with a hissing cry.

He was peering into the muzzle of a glistening revolver, behind which
stood the form of our Yankee friend.