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"What's the use, Bud? There are no holes in the walls they could stick a gun-barrel through, are there?" No one knew better than he that there were not. "You see," said Judith, with a half-smile, heroically assumed, "I'm a little afraid of the dark, too! Anyway, since we've got to spend the night with a man in Crowdy's shape, it will be more cosey, won't it, with the light on?"

Lee knelt and with quick fingers sought the wound. There was a hole in Crowdy's chest, high up near the throat, that was bleeding profusely. At first that seemed the only wound. But in a second Lee had found another. This was in the leg, and this, like Lee's, was bound tightly with a handkerchief. "Got that, first rattle out of the box!" commented Lee. "See it?

It happened to be half full. He filled a cup, and lifting Crowdy's head, held it to the fevered lips. "Not exactly what you'd call fresh, is it, Crowdy?" he said lightly. "But the spring's outside and I'm scared to go out in the dark." Crowdy drank thirstily and lay back, his eyes closed again. Lee rearranged his bandage. "Put out the light now?" he asked Judith. "No," she answered.

Crowdy's lax arm, extended downward at the side of the bunk, seemed to be reaching again for the canvas bag; the red fingers touched it with their tips. "Now," said Lee, speaking bluntly, afraid that a tone of sympathy might merely aid the girl to "shake to pieces," "we've got a chance to be on our way before Number Two and Number Three get into the game. Let's run for it, Judith."

"You win back your thousand on to-night's play," he said, holding up the bag to Judith, lifting his eyes to her face. But Judith shrank back, her eyes wide with horror. "I don't want it! I can never touch it!" she whispered. Suddenly she was shaking from head to foot, her eyes fixed in terrible fascination upon Crowdy's face.

Lee tossed the bag to the bunk across the room, whence it fell clanking to the floor. "Now she's going to faint," was his thought. "Well, I won't blame her so damn much. Poor little kid!" But he did not look at her again. He tore away Crowdy's shirt to discover just how serious the wound in the chest was.

That's why he stuck on the job and didn't try to run for it. Looks like a rifle-ball had smashed the bone." He didn't look up. His fingers, busy with the string at Crowdy's belt, brought away the canvas bag. There was blood on it; it was heavy and gave forth the mellow jangle of gold.

And I've got the guess they'll be asking a look-in yet!" He dropped a heavy bar into its place across the door and then went to the two small windows and fastened the heavy oaken shutters. When he came back to Judith she was bending over the wounded man. Crowdy's eyes were closed; he looked to be on the verge of death. The girl's face was almost as white as Crowdy's.