It was the signal for a tumult. The tall man fought desperately to
preserve his disguise, but Flemister's mask was torn off in the first
rush. Then came a diversion, sudden and fiercely tragic. With a cry of
rage that was like the yell of a madman, Hallock flung himself upon the
mine-owner, beating him down with his manacled hands, choking him,
grinding him into the dust of the floor. And when the avenger of wrongs
was pulled off and dragged to his feet, Lidgerwood, looking past the
death grapple, saw the figure of a woman swaying at the corridor door;
saw the awful horror in her eyes. In the turning of a leaf he had fought
his way to her.
"Good heavens, Eleanor!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?" and he
faced her about quickly and led her into the corridor lest she should
see the distorted features of the victim of Hallock's vengeance.
"I came--they took the car away, and I--I was left behind," she
faltered. And then: "Oh, Howard! take me away; hide me somewhere! It's
too horrible!"
There was a bull-bellow of rage from the room they had just left, and
Lidgerwood hurried his companion into the first refuge that offered,
which chanced to be the trainmaster's room. Out of the private office
and into the corridor came the taller of the two garroters, holding his
mask in place as he ran, with McCloskey, Judson, and all but one or two
of the others in hot pursuit.
Notwithstanding, the fugitive gained the stair and fell, rather than
ran, to the bottom. There was the crash of a bursting door, a soldierly
command of "Halt!" the crack of a cavalry rifle, and McCloskey came
back, wiping his homely face with a bandanna.
"They got him," he said; and then, seeing Eleanor for the first time,
his jaw dropped and he tried to apologize. "Excuse me, Miss Brewster; I
didn't have the least idea you were up here."
"Nothing matters now," said Eleanor, pale to the lips. "Come in here and
tell us about it. And--and--is mamma safe?"
"She's down-stairs in the _Nadia_, with the others--where I supposed you
were," McCloskey began; but Lidgerwood heard the feet of those who were
carrying Flemister's body from the chamber of horrors, and quickly
shutting the door on sight and sounds, started the trainmaster on the
story which must be made to last until the way was clear of things a
woman should not see.
"Who was the tall man?" he asked. "I thought he was Hallock--I called
him Hallock."
The trainmaster shook his head. "They're about the same build; but we
were all off wrong, Mr. Lidgerwood--'way off. It's been Gridley: Gridley
and his side-partner, Flemister, all along. Gridley was the man who
jumped the passenger at Crosswater Hills, and took up the rail to ditch
Clay's freight--with Hallock chasing him and trying to prevent it.
Gridley was the man who helped Flemister last night at Silver
Switch--with Hallock trying again to stop him, and Judson trying to
keep tab on Hallock, and getting him mixed up with Gridley at every
turn, even to mistaking Gridley's voice and his shadow on the
window-curtain for Hallock's. Gridley was the man who stole the
switch-engine and ran it over the old Wire-Silver spur to the mine to
sell it to Flemister for his mine power-plant--they've got it boxed up
and running there, right now. Gridley is the man who has made all this
strike trouble, bossing the job to get you out and to get himself in, so
he could cover up his thieveries. Gridley was the man who put up the job
with Bart Rufford to kill you, and Judson mistook his voice for
Hallock's that time, too. Gridley was----"
"Hold on, Mac," interrupted the superintendent; "how did you learn all
this?"
"Part of it through some of his men, who have been coming over to us in
the last half-hour and giving him away; part of it through Dick Rufford,
who was keeping tab on him for the money he could squeeze out of him
afterward."
"How did Rufford come to tell you?"
"Why, Bradford--that is--er--the two Ruffords started a little shooting
match with Andy, and--m-m--well, Bart passed out for keeps, this time,
but Dick lived long enough to tell Bradford a few things--for old
cow-boy times' sake, I suppose. I'll never put it all over any man,
again, as long as I live, Mr. Lidgerwood, after rubbing it into Hallock
the way I did, when he was doing his level best to help us out. But it's
partly his own fault. He wanted to play a lone hand, and he was scheming
to get them both into the same frying-pan--Gridley and Flemister."