“For one thing, a family interest. I think he is a son of Lane's early years. For another, he had a violent personal quarrel with Henry over some matter, and you have had the benefit of the enmity. But I don't think you'll hear of him again—or Meeker either. They will be in too much of a hurry to leave the state.”
I thought of Terrill lying bruised and sore at Livermore, and felt no fear of him.
“You took great chances in sending me to Livermore,” I said. “It might have gone hard with Mr. Knapp's plans if I had not got back.”
“I thought of that. But if the boy had been where I supposed all would have been well. I should have telegraphed you before nightfall to return. But in the distraction of my search I did not give up till midnight. I left a telegram at the office to be sent you the first thing in the morning, but by that time you were here. It was a bold escape, and I feel that we owe you much for it.”
At her last words we were at the wharf, and landed free from fear.
An hour later I reached my lodgings, sore with fatigue, and half-dead for want of sleep. The excitement that had spurred my strength for the last enterprise no longer supported me. I slept twenty-four hours in peace, and no dream of Doddridge Knapp's brother or of the snake-eyes of Tom Terrill disturbed my repose.
CHAPTER XXXI. THE REWARD
“I've heard about you,” said Luella, when on the next evening I made my bow to her. “But I want to hear all about it from yourself. Tell me, please.”