. . . . . . .
In the meantime, Del Mar's other two men had entered the house and had run up-stairs, knowing well his wrath if anything had happened. As they did so, the naturalist poked his head cautiously out of the kitchen where he had been hiding, and saw them. Then he followed noiselessly, his revolver ready.
Headlong they ran into the room where they had left Elaine. She was gone!
Before they could turn, the naturalist locked the door, turned and took the steps down, two at a time.
Then he ran out of the front door and into the woods at an angle to the direction taken by Elaine, turning and going down hill, where a rapid, swollen stream curved about through a gorge. As he reached the stream, he heard a shot above, and a scream.
He looked up. There was Elaine, swept down toward him. Below he knew the stream tumbled over a tall cataract into the gorge below.
What could he do?
A sudden crackling of the twigs caused him to turn and catch sight of me, just coming up.
For, as best I could on horseback, I had followed Elaine's car until at last I saw that it had been abandoned. Thoroughly alarmed, I rode on, past a deserted house until suddenly I heard a shot and a scream. It seemed to come from below me and I leaped off my horse, making for it as fast as I could, racing toward a stream whose roar I could hear.
There on the bank I came upon a queer old codger, looking about wildly.
Was he the automobile thief? I ran forward, ready to seize him. But as
I did so, he whirled about and with a strength remarkable in one so old
seized my own wrist before I could get his.