“No, I have only his word, but he spoke of those documents repeatedly, saying they contained his instructions to tie up the mines in order to give a foot-hold for the lawsuits. He bragged that the rest of the gang were in his power and that he could land them in the penitentiary for conspiracy. That’s all.”
“It’s the only chance,” said Helen. “They are sending soldiers to the Midas to lie in ambush, and you must warn the Vigilantes.” Cherry paled at this and ejaculated:
“Good Lord! Roy said he’d lead an attack to-night.” The two stared at each other.
“If I succeed with Struve I can stop it all—all of this injustice and crime—everything.”
“Do you realize what you’re risking?” Cherry demanded. “That man is an animal. You’ll have to kill him to save yourself, and he’ll never give up those proofs.”
“Yes, he will,” said Helen, fiercely, “and I defy him to harm me. The Sign of the Sled is a public road-house with a landlord, a telephone, and other guests. Will you warn Mr. Glenister about the troops?”
“I will, and bless you for a brave girl. Wait a moment.” Cherry took from the dresser her tiny revolver. “Don’t hesitate to use this. I want you to know also that I’m sorry for what I said yesterday.”
As she hurried away, Helen realized with a shock the change that the past few months had wrought in her. In truth, it was as Glenister had said, his Northland worked strangely with its denizens. What of that shrinking girl who had stepped out of the sheltered life, strong only in her untried honesty, to become a hunted, harried thing, juggling with honor and reputation, in her heart a half-formed fear that she might kill a man this night to gain her end? The elements were moulding her with irresistible hands. Roy’s contact with the primitive had not roughened him more quickly than had hers.
She met her appointment with Struve, and they rode away together, he talkative and elated, she silent and icy.
Late in the afternoon the cloud banks to the eastward assumed alarming proportions. They brought with them an early nightfall, and when they broke let forth a tempest which rivalled that of the previous night. During the first of it armed men came sifting into McNamara’s office from the rear and were hidden throughout the building. Whenever he descried a peculiarly desperate ruffian the boss called him aside for private instruction and gave minute description of a wide-shouldered, erect youth in white hat and half-boots. Gradually he set his trap with the men Voorhees had raked from the slums, and when it was done smiled to himself. As he thought it over he ceased to regret the miscarriage of last night’s plan, for it had served to goad his enemies to the point he desired, to the point where they would rush to their own undoing. He thought with satisfaction of the rôle he would play in the United States press when the sensational news of this night’s adventure came out. A court official who dared to do his duty despite a lawless mob. A receiver who turned a midnight attack into a rout and shambles. That is what they would say. What if he did exceed his authority thereafter? What if there were a scandal? Who would question? As to soldiers—no, decidedly no. He wished no help of soldiers at this time.