Hunt and Hurley joined a party that launched a big batteau to go down the Runaway to the first turn in the canyon wall to see just what the danger was. Most of the other inhabitants of Canyon Pass were crowding into Main Street. It might be that all would have to get back to the headlands where the mines were in order to escape the flood.
Betty, alone in her room in the hotel, saw the people milling about below and could only guess what it meant. She did not dare go down to ask about the catastrophe, and Maria did not return. But as she sat there, trembling not altogether from fear of what might happen to the town, she saw the knob of her door turn slowly. There was somebody in the hall—somebody coming in!
In her terror—terror of she knew not what—the girl could not move. She could only watch the frail door sag slowly open. She saw a hand with a sparkling diamond upon it. But it was a man’s hand. A shoulder appeared as the door was thrust farther inward.
Then she saw the face of the intruder.
“Andy Wilkenson!”
Betty did not know that her voice was audible. But as the man slid in with the sleekness of a cat and closed the door behind him, he whispered:
“So you know me all right, do you? Then that makes it easier. You’ve got to hide me, Betty. They are after me. I got out of the Grub Stake through a window—just in time.”
He laughed. There was a reckless gayety in his manner that was forced; but it seemed to Betty more terrible than if he had shown fear.
“You wouldn’t want them to get your husband, would you, honey?” he went on, his back against the door, his eyes glittering. “And there’s going to be high water. I can’t get away at once. I’ve got to hide. You’ll have to keep me here.” He chuckled. “A girl wouldn’t give her hubby up to the sheriff, would she? I——”
“Go away!” she gasped.