arrest." Jaimihr's thin face was twisted in wrath. "One man's life will not stand in our way now."
"No," Woodhouse affirmed.
"Success is veree near. When Bishop goes with you down the Rock"
"Yes, yes! What?"
"The pistol screams, but the knife is dumb. Quick, Cap-tain!" With a swift movement of his hand the Indian passed a thin-bladed dirk to the white man. The latter secreted the sheathed weapon in a pocket of his dinner jacket. He nodded understanding.
"One man's life—nothing!" Jaimihr breathed.
"It shall be done," Woodhouse whispered.
Jaimihr faded through the double doors like a spirit in a medium's cabinet. He had seen what the captain was slower to notice. The door from Jane Gerson's room was opening. The girl stepped swiftly into the room, and was by Woodhouse's side almost before he had seen her.
"I could not—go away—without—without"
"Miss Gerson—Jane!" He was beside her instantly. His hand sought and found one of hers
