Blindfolded by Walcott, Earle Ashley, 1859-1931

"I remember the occasion, though I didn't know what was going on."

"Well, Mr. Knapp was very angry, and had a long talk with Lane. He told me that the creature cried and pleaded for forgiveness, and promised amendment for the future. And Mr. Knapp believed him. Yet that very night you were assailed with Luella in Chinatown."

The truth flashed on me. The groans and cries behind the locked door in Doddridge Knapp's office, the voices which were like to one man pleading and arguing with himself, were all explained.

"I think the assault was something of an accident," she continued; "or, rather, it was more the doing of Terrill than of Lane."

"What was the cause of Terrill's enmity?" I asked. "He seemed to take a hearty personal interest in the case for a hired man."

"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."

"Where shall I begin?" I asked, looking into the most charming of faces, which shone before me.

"How stupid to ask! At the beginning, of course."

"I was born of poor but honest parents"--I began.

Luella interrupted me with a laugh.

"How absurd you are! Anyhow, you can tell me about that later. Just begin with the San Francisco beginning. Tell me why you came and all about it."

"Very good," I said; "though really this part is much longer than the other."

Then I told her the story of my coming, of the murder of Henry Wilton, of the struggles with death and difficulty that had given the spice of variety to my life since I had come across the continent.