The girl in the blackness without the candle-shine moved slightly.
“What's that?” asked Dunke, startled.
“What's what?”
“That noise. Some one moved.”
Dunke's revolver came swiftly from his pocket.
“I reckon it must a-been the girl.”
“What girl? Miss Kinney?”
Dunke's hard eyes fastened on the other like steel augers.
Margaret came forward and took wraithlike shape.
“I want you to take me to Mrs. Collins, Mr. Dunke,” she said.