Under a street lamp at the far end of the path he thought
he saw two dark figures. He ran faster, and soon reached the street.
The uproar back in the hotel began to diminish, or else he was
getting out of hearing. The few people he saw close at hand were
all coming his way, and only the foremost showed any excitement.
Gale walked swiftly, peering ahead for two figures. Presently he
saw them--one tall, wearing a cape; the other slight, mantled. Gale
drew a sharp breath of relief. Throne and Mercedes were not far ahead.
From time to time Thorne looked back. He strode swiftly, almost
carrying Mercedes, who clung closely to him. She, too, looked back.
Once Gale saw her white face flash in the light of a street lamp.
He began to overhaul them; and soon, when the last lamp had been
passed and the street was dark, he ventured a whistle. Thorne
heard it, for he turned, whistled a low reply, and went on. Not
for some distance beyond, where the street ended in open country,
did they halt to wait. The desert began here. Gale felt the soft
sand under his feet and saw the grotesque forms of cactus. Then
he came up with the fugitives.
"Dick! Are you--all right?" panted Thorne, grasping Gale.
"I'm--out of breath--but--O.K.," replied Gale.
"Good! Good!" choked Thorne. "I was scared--helpless....Dick, it
worked splendidly. We had no trouble. What on earth did you do?"
"I made the row, all right," said Dick.
"Good Heavens! It was like a row I once heard made by a mob.
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