SPOTTED IN AUSTRALIA.
If Merle Macray had landed from theIntrepidon the quays of Melbourne he had done so under a disguise that had deceived the detective of two continents.
Old Broadbrim for once seemingly had used his eyes in vain, and after a while he went back, walking up the quay, and turned into Collins Street in a deep study.
If he had watched a certain little old man who walked from the vessel he might have changed his mind.
This person, who carried a valise, had been among the first to disembark, and had hastened to get beyond the piers.
Half an hour later he might have been seen to enter one of theoffices of the cable company and to ask for a message for "Ira Black."
The person in charge at the time lifted a message from a hook and handed it across the counter.
It was promptly paid for in gold, and the receiver, placing it in his pocket, walked out.
There was a smile on his face, and it lingered there some time, or until he entered a hotel and went up to a room on the third floor.
There, with the door locked behind him, he pulled forth the telegraph envelope and tore it open.
The message was from London and was very short, but it startled him.
In the soft Australian sunlight that entered the chamber he read at a glance, as follows:
"The Wolf follows. He is off on theMaybloom, bound for Sydney.Jem."
"The Wolf follows. He is off on theMaybloom, bound for Sydney.
Jem."
The recipient of the cablegram looked up with a snarl of defiance on his face, now no longer old-looking, but with the mask removed, and young and handsome.
"So he is on the trail," he cried; "so this ferret from afar is on the hunt? Well, I am ready to meet him, but there's many a trap he never dreams of!"
He tore the message into tatters and threw them out the back window, to see the wind carry them in very many directions.
"You're a good one, Jem, but it would have been best if you had silenced the wolf and not put me to this trouble," he said in undertones. "It's all one, though. I guess we're equal to the task. If we are not no man can be."
Meantime, Old Broadbrim had gone back to the hotel near Collins Street for a little rest.
He waited till night deepened and then stepped into the street again.
The sights that encountered his gaze were new to him.
He was in one of the most wonderful cities in the world.
Melbourne, the capital of Victoria, and the haunt of the cattle king, the sheep prince, the gold nabob and the miner, presented scenes to be duplicated nowhere under the sun.
In the glare of the electric lights, the hurry and bustle of business, the revelry of saloon and dance hall, in the haunts of the tough and the palaces of the money kings, there is always something exciting and new.
Old Broadbrim had been to strange places in his career, but never in one just like Melbourne.
He jostled the gold hunter who had come to the city to spend his dust, and perhaps get a knife in his heart before he left it; he was pushed aside by the cattle boy in his jacket and sombrero, and the air was ladened with the slang of mine and camp till it disgusted the detective.
As he turned into one street Broadbrim saw ahead a brilliant sign which told him that beyond the door nearby one could see one of the sights of Melbourne, the great Paradise Dance Hall.
Unhesitatingly Old Broadbrim walked in.
It was a sight worth coming miles to see.
The vast place was brilliantly lighted up and the fun was at its height.
Music filled the air and the forms of dancers of both sexes went hither and thither under the chandeliers.
Broadbrim selected a spot from which he could witness the revel and not be in any one's way.
Hundreds were constantly coming and going.
For some time he watched the exciting scene, and he was in the act of moving out when he saw enter a man at whom he looked the second time.
This person with American ways came forward and stood near the detective while he cast his eye over the revelers.
He was tall and well built.
His garments were faultless and his face had lately felt the keen edge of the razor.
All at once a man sprang from the crowd and came up to the newcomer.
"Back, are you, Merle?" this man said, as he grasped the other's hand and wrung it. "I haven't seen you for months. How's the Queen and Round Robin Ranch?"
The other appeared a little chagrined over this profuse greeting, but it was impossible to avoid the man.
Old Broadbrim saw the keen, black eyes sweep the crowd as if in search of him, but they soon came back to the other one.
"Things are all right at the ranch," he said. "Belle is as pretty as ever, and——"
"I'm glad of that. I've been thinking of going out and taking a look at the place. You've been at home all spring, eh?"
"Yes, all the time."
"Wish I had gone then. You didn't take that trip to the States, then?"
"I hadn't time."
"Too much to do on Round Robin Ranch? That's it. Where there's money and lots of it one would better stay. But you're looking well, Merle——"
"There, don't call me Merle," the voice of the speaker dropped almost to a whisper, but the old detective heard. "I'm in Melbourne on a bit of secret business and I don't care to be 'Merle' here."
"That's all right, but why didn't you say so at the start? I am always ready to do you a favor, Me—Jack. There, that's one of the old names, you know. It'll do, won't it?"
"Yes, 'Jack.' That name is all O. K."
The other slipped away and left Merle to himself covertly watched by the detective who was secretly rejoicing over this bit of good luck.
He knew his man now.
Once more he had found Rufus Redmond, theCunarder'spassenger, but in a distant part of the world, and there he had blossomed out again as Merle Macray.
Merle did not remain long at the dance.
With a last look around the hall he slipped out, and immediately after the detective's corner was deserted and the old sleuth was on the trail outside.
Now he must not lose his man.
Perhaps Merle Macray thought that in Melbourne he was safe.
He did not appear the least frightened, but walked erect and led the detective a long chase.
All at once he turned into a little street, very narrow and rather dark, but Broadbrim did not hesitate.
He caught sight of the quarry down the street and plunged after him.
Merle stopped at a door and rapped.
In another moment it opened and he went in.
Old Broadbrim came up and looked at the house.
Beyond that door lay a mystery which he wanted to fathom.
Merle Macray, traced across the sea, had entered the house and was out of sight.
Old Broadbrim stood near the door and listened.
Perhaps it was a risky thing to do, but he took risks.
There were voices beyond the walls of the house, and he heard some one say:
"Chased from London, eh? What have you been up to now?"
It was the voice of an old man.
There was a laugh in reply, and then Broadbrim heard the voice of Merle Macray:
"What do you think I've done, Danny Minks? Do I look like an assassin? Do I have the appearance of a housebreaker or a ticket-of-leave man, that I should be tracked from London?"
"No, no, Merle, my boy, but why have you been tracked?"
"Go out there and ask the tracker."
"But he's not in Melbourne, I hope?"
"I can't say. I know he's on the road."
"On the water, you mean?"
"Put it as you please, Danny."
"Well?"
"I want you to tell me where the girl is now."
"Stareyes?"
"Yes, Stareyes. Is she in the city?"
"I don't know."
"Come, no lies, old man," and an oath followed the words. "I am not to be fooled again. If she's here I want to know it."
A moment's silence followed.
"She hasn't been here for three months."
"She was here, then, was she? The witch!"
"I saw her but half an hour then, and she slipped away before I could talk with her."
"You should have fixed her. That was the bargain, you know."
"I know, but——"
"I'll forgive you this time, but there must be no failure the next time she comes. You know the tenth step?"
"I know it."
"See that she finds it. No blood, no money, Danny."
"I'll obey."
Old Broadbrim heard this conversation while he leaned against the door of the house, and then he withdrew.
He believed that Merle would soon come out again, but he waited in vain.
He waited till nearly midnight, but no one came from the place, and then he went back.
Hastily changing his face by supplying a new set of whiskers, he went up to the door and knocked.
There was a shuffling of feet on the inside, and then the portal opened.
Old Danny stood before him with a light in his hand.
The detective slipped past the little man and turned on him in the hallway.
"What is it?" cried Danny, falling against the wall and nearly dropping his light.
"Merle is in danger. I want to warn him."
Old Danny gave Old Broadbrim a look that seemed to pierce him like an arrow.
"In danger? Merle?" he cried. "By the officers of the home government? I'll show you where he is. This way."
He crossed the room and opened a narrow door.
Old Broadbrim followed. He saw the shadow of a flight of steps leading downward, and Danny, with the light, entered the place and cried:
"Come!"
THE TERRIBLE DEATH-TRAP.
The detective found himself in a dark place with the ghostly steps under his feet.
A step in advance was the little ogreish figure of Old Danny, his shoulders humped like an imp's and his face twisted awry as if at some time the flames had licked it.
"I'm glad you've come to warn Merle," said the little man, looking over his shoulder. "You're very good."
"Something had to be done," said Old Broadbrim. "Merle's in danger and he must know."
"Yes, yes."
A chuckle followed the last word, and Danny's face grew white and ghastly.
The stairs seemed to creak beneath the detective's feet.
He did not know whither he was going, but he thought that Old Danny had taken the bait and was lighting him to the man he had tracked across the sea.
He intended to end the chase there and then.
He would drag Merle Macray before the authorities of Melbourne, and would not relinquish his hold till he had the murderer of Custer Kipp back in New York.
But suddenly he thought of the conversation he had overheard between Old Danny and Merle concerning the person called Stareyes.
What did Merle mean about the tenth step?
It came to Old Broadbrim's mind like a flash of light in darkness.
It thrilled him.
He had gone down six steps of the stairs, and Old Danny's light did not show him the bottom.
Suddenly a wisp of wind extinguished the light, and they stood in total darkness.
"My light's out!" cried Old Danny. "But it's all one. We're almost at the bottom anyhow, and there I'll strike a match."
Broadbrim made no reply, but hugged the nearest wall, for the stairs cracked beneath his weight.
"Come on," said the old man's voice.
Broadbrim put out his hand, but he could not touch Danny.
The little fellow had got beyond his reach, and now he could not hear him.
The tenth step!
Perhaps the stairs was a death-trap and there was no tenth step at all.
The thought startled the detective.
He stopped, and then, in a shiver of excitement which he could not suppress, he started back.
"This way!" said a voice which he recognized as Old Danny's.
Broadbrim did not move.
He was lying along the stairs in the gloom waiting for something to show him the true situation.
"I'm down," repeated Danny, far below. "It's all right, sir. This way to Merle."
Broadbrim started up again.
If Danny had reached the floor beneath then why not he, too?
He was more than a match for this old man with the ape-like shoulders and scarred face.
And he had crossed the sea to find Merle Macray, and now he would not let him escape.
Once more, pistol in hand, the detective of New York started down the stairs.
He counted three more steps, and put his foot forward again.
But this time it touched nothing.
He fell back with a half-expressed cry of horror, and then tried to save himself from falling.
But he had retreated too late.
In another moment the flight of steps seemed to tilt deeper, deeper, into the abyss, and Broadbrim hung from the last one over the dark death.
It was a terrible situation, and he felt the strain of it all through him.
He knew all now.
Old Danny had been too sharp for him.
He had recognized him as an enemy of Merle Macray, and had taken him to the death stairs.
Broadbrim saw that his strength was leaving him.
He could not hold on much longer, and when he let go his trail would end forever.
Darkness was everywhere.
The figure of Old Danny had vanished, and he did not know what had become of the old villain.
The American detective clung for life to the step.
He tried to pull his body up, but the flight seemed to recede whenever he did so, and he taxed his powers in vain.
Somewhere in the darkness, he did not doubt, stood Danny, waiting for his doom.
The old scoundrel knew how to reach the safety point, but he (Old Broadbrim) had been trapped.
Why had he undertaken to hunt a man like Merle Macray all over the world?
To die in a trap like that?
At last he hung by the very tips of his fingers, as it were.
His body was already over the abyss, and he would in a few seconds be compelled to let go and drop.
Suddenly the stairs shook violently and a door opened overhead.
A light was seen and it streamed over his face.
Broadbrim saw a man above him, and a glance told him that it was Old Danny.
The hump-backed demon was looking down to see if his scheme had succeeded.
There was a wolfish gleam in the little eyes and a demonic grin on the thin lips.
Danny held the light over his head and saw Broadbrim as he clung to the last step.
"You want Merle, eh?" he cried. "Well, you'll never see him. You will lie in the pit forever. It is bottomless!"
With that the light was swung over Danny's head, and he laughed derisively.
"Down you go!" he went on. "So you're the wolf on the scent, and it's a pretty game you're playing. Crossed the sea to play it, eh? Well, now it's all up with you, Scotland Yarder."
Something, till then unseen, was lifted above Old Danny's head, and came toward the detective like a weapon from a catapult.
Broadbrim could not dodge.
The billet struck him in the face, and with a cry he dropped out of sight while the face of Old Danny was the last object he saw in the light of the lantern.
Broadbrim struck ground far below the stairs, and after hitting what appeared to be the sides of a narrow shaft.
But for this he would have fallen like a stone to the bottom of the well, and been killed at once.
As it was, he was stunned and for some time lay on his back unable to move.
Darkness surrounded him, and he could not see a bit of light from the lantern overhead.
How long he lay there he did not know when a light shot out of the gloom above him.
He saw the light swing back and forth, and then caught the impish grin of Old Danny's face.
The demon of Melbourne was leaning over the abyss, trying to inquire into his fate.
For some time the light remained there, and then it vanished.
In darkness again the detective arose and felt the stone walls of the shaft.
These were nearly smooth.
He tried to pull out a stone, but found that he was too weak for the task, and desisted.
At last he caught a sound from beyond the pit that seemed to startle him.
Some time had elapsed since his fall, and the thought that some infernal agency was flooding the pit flashed across his mind.
Broadbrim waited a while, and then felt the water at his feet.
He was to be drowned, and with water Old Danny would complete the work of crime.
Broadbrim leaned against the wall of the pit and felt the water about his feet.
In his desperation he reached up and caught hold of a stone that projected a few inches from the wall.
He tugged at it with herculean strength and forced it out of the wall.
He must work his way upward out of the reach of the water.
It was that or death!
Never before had the detective found himself in just such a place.
Traps had held him, but never a terrible trap like that one.
The first stone out, the next one yielded without so much trouble, and the third easier than the others.
It was upward now toward the fatal stairs.
Old Broadbrim stopped in his terrible climb, but not to rest long.
No doubt the water was several feet deep in the bottom of the pit.
Suddenly he heard a noise overhead.
He looked up, but held his breath.
"You're sure he went down, Danny?" asked some one.
"Sure? Of course! Didn't I see him lying in the bottom of the pit with my own eyes?"
"That's good evidence. And you've flooded it?"
"Yes, turned the water in, and it's knee-deep by this time."
"You're a trump, old man—a regular full hand!"
"I'm glad you acknowledge it."
"Now if the girl comes back, play the tenth step game on her, too, and I'll make you a nabob of Melbourne."
"I'll do it. Ha, ha, ha! Won't she make a good companion for him? Too good almost. Why, he hung to the ninth step till he couldn't hang any longer, and down he went headlong."
There was a double chuckle of delight at these words and then the voices ceased.
Old Broadbrim grated his teeth.
Merle Macray had come back, and it was fortunate that Old Danny's positiveness had prevented him from looking down into the pit, else he would have been discovered hugging the wall above the dark flood at the bottom of the well.
The detective breathed freer when the two vanished, but he took a startling oath in his prison.
He would triumph or die in the attempt to reach victory.
He would catch Merle Macray despite all his traps and schemes, he would show this cunning, red-handed murderer that he had not crossed the sea in vain.
But he was still in the toils—a death stairs overhead and underneath the waters of death.
"I didn't come here to die like a rat!" he cried. "I came for vengeance, and I'll be content with nothing else."
DEMONA, THE RANCH QUEEN.
Three weeks after the events we have just chronicled there might have been seen in the town of Perth, the largest place in West Australia, a young girl who stood on the principal street, with a pair of coal-black eyes riveted upon a man who had just emerged from one of the rich gaming resorts of the colonial capital.
Her figure was perfect and her face was white and handsome.
She may have passed her teens, for she showed a few marks of having reached and passed the twentieth mile-stone, but for all this she was striking, with her dark skin and her lustrous eyes.
Her prey stood in the light of a lamp that swung in a glass case over the door of the El Dorado, as the place was called, and now and then she seemed to start while she regarded him.
Those who knew the man would have called him Merle Macray, and his well-rounded figure, dressed in a rich ranch costume, was shown off to advantage.
"Wait!" said the girl through her clinched teeth. "My time will come, and then you will feel the vengeance of Stareyes. I never forget, monster, and by and by the hand of fate will fall and smite you. It can't always last thus. You can reign on the ranch as its king, but here and elsewhere you can't play out your hands and chuckle your satisfaction.
"I've waited for you to come back," she went on, her eyes flashing again. "I could have entered the nest and killed the bird there, but I thought I would wait till your return, and now you're back. It won't be long, Merle, the ranchman. It won't be long, I say," and she laughed as she turned away and left the man to himself.
Around the corner she darted into a small place and went upstairs to where an old woman sat in a dim light, sewing.
"I've seen him, Hester," cried the girl, standing in front of the woman and looking down upon her with passion.
"I've watched him for an hour and yet didn't touch the rascal."
"It was your chance, girl."
"I know it, and I had the weapon in my hand at the time, but I spared him. Am I not merciful?"
And she laughed.
"Merciful! You should have a crown for your mercy."
"The time will come. Yes, I have taken the oath that will not be forgotten. He is back from the far-off land. He has been out to Round Robin Ranch, but he is in Perth to-night."
"You missed him in Melbourne——"
"I did," broke in the girl. "But that wasn't my fault. I didn't know just what vessel he was coming out on, and when theIntrepidcame in I must have overlooked him, for I watched her passengers."
"He must have been disguised."
"Yes, yes, that's it—disguised! He will need the best of masks to escape me."
"Of course," said the old woman. "This man must feel our hand, girl."
"He shall!"
"He must die."
"Nothing less than death!"
"That's it. His crime must meet with the proper punishment. But what, think you, took him to America?"
"Time will tell, but I believe she sent him."
"Belle Demona?"
"Yes, Demon Bella," and the face of Stareyes seemed to lose every vestige of color. "I could have strangled her on the ranch despite her dogs and her agility. She is on the watch all the time, but I had her for half an hour at my mercy, though she knew it not. I could have thrown a snake from the bush into her bed, and they would have found her a bloated corpse in the morning, but I did not. I could have shot Merle to-night, but I withheld my hand."
"Don't do it again, girl. We may be too lenient."
"Just so. I will strike soon."
Stareyes went over to a corner and sat down.
The light falling upon her face showed traces of her excitement, and she fell to watching her companion, who went back to her work, and seemed to forget all that had passed between them.
"If he did anything for her—if he committed any crimes while he was away—they may come after him and take him from us," suddenly said the old woman, looking up.
"They shall not!" cried Stareyes. "I'll kill the hunters first!"
"That's it. He's not to escape us."
"Mother, never."
Meanwhile Merle Macray had departed from Perth.
The night was a beautiful one, and he had mounted a horse in the principal square, and, with a young man for company, was riding in a northeasterly direction from the Australian town.
His companion was younger than he, and not so good-looking.
Both were well mounted, and the horses, being fresh, bore them rapidly over the gently-undulating country, with a light breeze at their back and a good highway before them.
It was a long ride for the pair, for in a short time they passed beyond the line of human habitation and found themselves in an open country under the broad expanse of the starlit heavens.
Midnight overtook them in the same desolate land, but all at once the scene changed.
The country began to grow diversified with grass and timber, and pasture lands appeared on either side.
They had reached a grazing district, and the long wire fences met them as they rode along.
Presently the barking of dogs was heard, and in a few moments the riders threw their lines over the steeds' necks and dismounted.
A light appeared in the courtyard of a large ranch house in front of them, and the voice of a woman was heard.
"Back again!" exclaimed the woman, who stood in the court with a light in her hand.
"Yes," cried Merle Macray, as he sprang forward and pressed something into her hand.
She looked at it and smiled.
She was a person of five-and-twenty, regal in appearance and splendidly handsome.
Her figure was commanding, and her face, a little dark like the face of Stareyes, was strikingly beautiful.
Merle left his companion to take care of the horses and entered the house with the woman.
Inside everything was in keeping with wealth.
On every side was to be seen rich hangings and articles ofvirtu.
Rich carpets that yielded to the feet covered the floors and the walls were adorned with the costliest pictures.
It was a typical sheep king's home in West Australia, the palace of wealth in that quarter of the globe.
Beyond it lay the bush.
Not far away began the Desert of Death, and among its sand valleys lurked the lizard and the sun snake, whose bite is certain destruction.
Merle Macray strode into the house and stopped in the large parlor to the right of the hall.
His companion took a seat on a sofa and regarded him with eyes which seemed capable of devouring him.
"Tell me. Did you make sure of the tracker?" she asked.
"Didn't I?"
He laughed.
"Of course you did not see him."
"No. How can I see a man who is at the bottom of Old Danny's pit?"
"But you did not see him there."
"I know he's there, for Old Danny never lies, and he saw him in the pit and then flooded it with water. But I've assured you of this before."
"I know that, but you know how we women are. We get our spells of doubt sometimes, and——"
"Don't let them spoil your sleep now. It's all right. The man who played shadower is dead, and sleeps to-night where he should sleep—at the bottom of the pit!"
She crossed the room and opened a sideboard ingeniously set in the wall.
In another moment she came back with bottle and goblets and filled the latter with red wine.
"Drink with me, then. I feel like a new woman. It is accomplished! I told him that he should feel my hand, no matter where he went, and my threat has been fulfilled. You did it well, Merle. I am proud of you."
Merle Macray, looking over the brim of his goblet, saw her eyes get a merry, triumphant light, and then he downed his wine and set the glass on the onyx-topped table.
"I have secured the additional hands you need," said he. "I had some little trouble in picking them up in Perth and they will be here in a day or two."
"You got good men?"
"Yes. I left it to Jot and he will send those I did not get to see. How are the natives?"
"A little troublesome, but with the force I sent for we'll meet them triumphantly. It's not to be that I have to succumb to a lot of brigands and I will not pay tribute to their chief."
"That's right—not a pound!" cried Merle. "We will take the initiative as soon as the men arrive, and we'll show them that they can't levy tribute on Round Robin Ranch."
"Indeed we will. I am Belle Demona, or Belle, the Demon, as they shall learn, and when our men come we will show these scoundrels that we are not to be bled."
Merle drank off another glass of wine, and the woman left him alone.
Round Robin Ranch was the largest and richest sheep ranch in the district.
It belonged to the woman who was known as Belle Demona and whose wealth was said to be almost marvelous.
She had come out some years before the opening of our story and had made money hand-over-fist in the new lands of Australia, and her sheep were to be seen by thousands on the grazing lands of Round Robin Ranch.
Her overseer and general agent was Merle Macray, who had come out with her and who had just come back after an absence of over six months.
No one knew where he had been, though it was said that he was in London investing some of the ranch queen's savings and attending to other business for his mistress.
There were rumors that at one time the ranch queen had led a wild life in the capitals of Europe, and even in far-off America, but no one cared to make a public declaration of this sort.
The woman would not have submitted to such reports, and she was known everywhere as a perfect shot and a creature who feared nothing, not even the plundering bands that now and then raided the rich ranches and levied tribute on their owners.
But there was one person who knew where Merle Macray had been.
Old Broadbrim carried the true secret of his long absence in his bosom, and he had followed him to the island, tracking him from the scene of crime in New York to cling for life in the pit trap of Old Danny in Melbourne.
OLD BROADBRIM ONCE MORE.
Two days later a little party consisting of ten men came to the gate of the ranch home, and were received by Merle Macray and the Ranch Queen herself.
They were, for the most part, desperate, sunbrowned-looking fellows who sat their horses like Centaurs, and were received with demonstrations of delight at the ranch.
They were led by a youthful-looking man named Jot, who introduced them severally to both Merle and Belle Demona, saying that they had accepted her terms, and had come out from Perth to take service under her, and were ready to stand by her against all the brigands of the country.
They dismounted and were invited into the house, where they were regaled with a splendid repast interspersed with wine and toasts.
The beautiful woman of Round Robin Ranch was in her element, and the glow of pleasure came to her cheeks while she talked and laughed with her new adherents.
After the meal, Merle, well mounted and with Belle Demona at his side, took the men over the ranch, showing them the sheep and other stock, and telling them how they were expected to serve their new mistress.
The ranch was to be guarded at night, and certain signals had been studied out which would warn the people in the house at the first breath of danger.
The shades of this eventful day were deepening, when there galloped to the door of the ranch a single horseman, who dismounted and who was received with an exclamation of surprise by Merle, who came out to greet him.
"Jem!" he cried. "The last man I was looking for, but you're none the less welcome."
The newcomer was escorted into the house where the lights were lit, and where Belle Demona awaited him in the parlor.
"You came in a little behind him?" said Merle, looking at Jem.
"Yes, curse it all!" was the answer. "I did the best I could, but I didn't think of theMaybloomtill it was too late. I never thought of Lord Harway coming to this part of the world——"
Here a swift glance from Merle to Belle stopped him, but the ranch queen bade him proceed.
"You have kept something back from me!" she cried sternly, giving Merle a hard look. "You were followed. And all the way from England, too!"
"Yes; I told you about the man who fell into Danny's trap."
"I know it; but not that he started from London so soon after you."
Merle frowned a little but said nothing.
"Go on," said the woman, turning again to Jem. "Tell me all about this person who seems to have come out in Lord Harway's yacht."
Jem detailed his work in London in trying to check Old Broadbrim, and Belle Demona listened attentively.
"It was a slip between cup and lip, but I don't blame you. There's the man who should have watched him," and she pointed toward Merle whose face lost color.
"I thought I was safe when I left it to Jem," was the answer.
"I'll take the blame," said the man just from London. "I've missed him in Sydney, for which place the yacht sailed, and I have failed to find him in Melbourne."
"He's there," said Merle, with a smile.
"Looking for you?"
"No, but he's there, I say."
"Then he may come on here. We should look out."
"Never fear that," laughed the other. "Dead men tell no tales, you know, Jem."
"Is it that good?"
"Of course."
"Did it take place in Melbourne?"
"Yes."
"At Old Danny's, Merle says," put in the woman. "You know him, Jem?"
The newcomer nodded, and then said:
"I once was there, and the old man showed me the fatal stairs with the missing step——"
"The detective saw it, too!" laughed Merle.
"To his everlasting sorrow?"
"Of course."
"Then it's all right. No fears on that score. But I was on nettles during the whole voyage lest, after my telegram, you should fall into his trap. But if he's at the bottom of Old Danny's pit, why, he's safe for Gabriel."
There was an all-around laugh at this, and the trio adjourned to another part of the house.
All at once Jem felt a hand fall lightly upon his arm, and he looked into the face of Belle Demona.
She leaned toward him, and her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Did you see the girl?" asked the woman, and her eyes flashed with the greenish light of jealousy.
"What girl?"
"She—there is but the one!" hissed Belle. "I mean Stareyes."
Jem uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"What, does she bother you yet?" he asked.
"A good deal. She was here not long ago. I saw her in the bush on the east side of the ranch—got a glimpse of her and that was all. You did not see her in Melbourne or Perth?"
Jem shook his head.
"I wasn't looking for her," he said. "But if I had run across her I would have remembered it."
"Yes—yes. Could you go back to Melbourne to-morrow?"
He looked at her astonished, but her face was calm.
"To Melbourne?" he repeated.
"Yes. I want you to go. I don't want to send Merle."
"I'll go."
She held out her hand, and he kissed it.
"You will go to Old Danny's. You will look into the pit, no casual glance, but a good long look. You will see if there is a man at the bottom of it."
"I understand. You doubt——"
"I can't say that I do, but I want certainty. Men sometimes escape from the very jaws of death, and if this shadow from the other continent has come back to life, why, I want to know it."
Jem walked from the room and stood underneath the canopy of the heavens alone.
"What did she say to you, Jem?" suddenly asked a voice at his back.
He stood face to face with Merle Macray.
"She asked you to do her a favor, didn't she?" he went on.
There was no reply, and the hand of Merle fell upon the other's arm.
"Tell me," and his grip tightened. "She wouldn't believe me. She is sending you back to Melbourne."
"She is, Merle; but for God's sake don't give it away!"
"I shall not; but it's all right, there. The detective is in the pit."
"I believe you. Her fears are groundless, and he will stay there till doomsday."
"Then, don't investigate. Hover near, and let Melbourne go. In a few days you can come back with the proper story."
"But if she should find it out?"
"She shall not. I'll see to that. You will go away to-morrow, ostensibly to Melbourne. You can stop in Perth. There are many places where you can be entertained for a week there. I'll let you have all the money you want to fight the tiger there. We've got it here by the thousand, and she won't miss a few guineas. You do this for me, won't you, Jem?"
"Certainly."
Merle and Jem went back into the ranch house, and in a little while the sounds of song and music came out of it and floated away on the night air.
Far away across the ranch foxes barked and the hares played in the soft moonlight which had fallen on the grass.
The sheep had been housed for the night and the ranch guard set.
The statue-like figures of men stood here and there, and the new ranch guard was taking its first night on the reservation.
Merle Macray and Jem listened to the ranch queen's playing and now and then exchanged glances of satisfaction.
A few yards from the main building stood the house in which the new guards hired by Jot in Perth were quartered.
Their voices were heard as the men played cards or sung in the house, waiting to go on duty when the relief came in from outside.
All at once one of the party arose and stepped outside.
He was a well-built man of perhaps fifty and his face was covered with a curly beard almost black.
Dressed in the coarse jacket of the rancher and wearing the long boots of the Australian, he looked a typical sheep guard of the island, and with his face turned toward the large house from which came strains of music, he appeared to be transfixed by the scene.
He leaned against the out-house with folded arms and in an attitude of peace.
Overhead he saw the stars that shone so brilliantly on the sheeplands, and from the distant bush came the long hoot of the black owl, dismal and lone.
When he moved it was toward the large house, and stopping among a network of vines near the porch he listened anew to the music and caught a glimpse of the party in the parlor.
His keen eyes watched Merle Macray with more than passing interest.
He seemed to see no one but him and for some time he stood where he had stopped and watched the ranch queen's right bower.
He said nothing did this man who had given his name as Roland Riggs.
He merely looked, and when he had looked his fill he went back to the others and watched the game in progress there.
At last the tramp of horses was heard and the relief came in.
There was a different scene in the out-house now, and the name of Roland Riggs was called out.
The man stepped to the front and threw himself into the saddle.
In another moment he was riding to his post, and after a while he stood alongside his horse not far from a little copse which looked dark and ghostly.
He was alone in the wild Australian bush.
The stars twinkled on, but he stood there like a statue, with his eyes seeing everything and his senses on the alert.
Far away he caught the glimmer of light in the ranch-house but it only made him smile.
"Not yet," said he, under his breath. "It's a cool game all around, and the man who watched me out of sight when I left London in Lord Harway's yacht has come upon the scene. But he won't know me. I'll risk that. Merle Macray, the old pit in Danny's den didn't hold the Yankee tracker very long."
He ceased and looked toward the bush again.
Old Broadbrim was still on his trail.
A TERRIBLE MOMENT.
"Remember, you are to come back with the truth," said Belle Demona the next day, when she bade Jem good-by on the edge of the ranch, prior to his departure for Melbourne.
Jem was serving two masters, or, to be a little more correct, one master and one mistress.
He was expected by the ranch queen to proceed to Melbourne and there look into the trap-pit underneath Old Danny's house, while Merle Macray had his promise that he would go no further than Perth, where he would sojourn a few days and then come back with a well-coined story.
Whom would he obey—master or mistress?
Merle chuckled to himself when he saw the man from London ride away, and for some time he watched him with inward satisfaction.
During the remainder of the week nothing very exciting occurred at Ranch Robin.
Belle Demona thought that the secret of Jem's mission was her own, and she was as gay as a lark.
Roland Riggs, the new guard, became quite a man about the place.
No one suspected his identity.
Old Broadbrim in that character was a man to be praised, for he did his work well and became the best and most painstaking of the new guards.
It was the third night after Jem's departure, and Old Broadbrim was patrolling his beat some distance from the little copse from which the bandits of the ranches generally made their appearance, when he discovered something dark moving along the lighter ground.
In another moment he made out the figure of Merle Macray, and saw that he was approaching him.
The detective looked closely and started.
Had he been suspected and was the old enemy about to unmask him?
Suddenly Merle, in the little moonlight that fell upon the region, stopped and turned his face toward the copse.
"Hands up!" cried a stern voice from the belt of trees.
Merle looked toward Roland Riggs and seemed to appeal for help.
"Hands up, there! We've come, Sir Nabob."
Out of the copse rushed twenty men and the next minute Merle, with half-drawn revolver, stood at the mercy of the bandits.
They had come to surprise Ranch Robin at last.
Merle stood at bay till the band came, and Old Broadbrim, crouching behind a tuft of grass, held his breath, but clutched his repeating rifle with firm hands.
Merle was seized at once.
His hands were tied behind his back, and then the bandits consulted.
Suddenly one of them turned to their prisoner.
"Where's the money?" he demanded.
Merle's answer was a defiant oath.
"Come! we can't stand to be cursed. Where's the money? In the big house or in the little one? You'll be a dead man in ten seconds if you don't spit out the truth."
Merle did not reply.
"Stand him out there, Billy," cried the leader of the plunderers. "There, that will do. Stand him with his face toward us; so. Now, Merle of Ranch Robin, your life won't be worth the wick of a candle if you don't disclose the hiding place of Belle Demona's gold within three seconds. Time him by the watch, Peter."
One of the bandits, who was a tall, well-dressed fellow, but whose desperateness showed in every lineament, took a large watch from his trousers pocket and looked at it.
"He won't betray her. He'll die first," said Old Broadbrim, who breathlessly watched the scene. "In that case I will lose my map, and the chase across the sea will end in failure."
The voice of the bandit captain was heard again.
"One!" he said sternly.
Merle did not utter a word.
"Two!"
The figure of Old Broadbrim moved in the grass and the rifle came up against his shoulder.
He covered the group a few yards away, and then advanced upon it.
"Set him free!" came over the gleaming barrel of the leveled weapon.
The bandits looked up and then exchanged glances.
They saw but one man, and he stood in the moonlight with a rifle to his shoulder.
"Release Captain Merle!" repeated Old Broadbrim.
"Shoot the prisoner, that will be release enough," cried one of the robbers of the ranches.
"If you dare!" cried the detective. "It will be worth your leader's life to issue a command of that kind."
Nearer and nearer came the determined detective.
"Quick, we can kill the guard afterward," said one of the band in undertones. "It won't take a minute to riddle him."
The ringleader of the brigands issued the order, but at the same time the detective's rifle spoke and the form of the captain of the robbers reeled away and tumbled in a heap a few feet from his intended victim.
At the crack of the guard's weapon the brigands scattered, for the Australian bandit is not overbrave under some circumstances, but Old Broadbrim did not stop there.
In another second he was emptying the repeating rifle into the horde with some effect, but the unhurt ones dragged off their comrades and left Merle alone on the scene of battle.
"By Jove! it was well done!" he cried, springing forward and holding out his hand to his disguised hunter. "I never saw anything like it, Riggs."
"I thought you needed help and so I let loose upon the rascals."
"And scattered them like chaff! Why, you shoot like an old hand from the States."
"I've hunted in the States, as I've told you," smiled Old Broadbrim. "They won't return again to-night."
"Not they! You've killed their captain, I think, for when they dragged him away he did not seem to have a spark of life in him. But we'll hear from them again. They'll want revenge now, but we're too much for them."
The two men walked over to the place where Merle had been captured.
"I was making a quiet inspection of the lines by moonlight," explained Merle to the guard. "It is necessary at times, for you don't know what sort of guards you get. But men of your stamp, Riggs, are worth their weight in gold."
"They're gone, sir. Over the ridge yonder you can hear the last sounds of their horses."
"Yes. When you get off to-night come into the house," said Merle, and with this he left Old Broadbrim and went toward the ranch dwelling.
Two hours later the relief came around and Old Broadbrim marched back to the house.
Already he was a hero.
His comrades received him with demonstrations of delight and he was overwhelmed with words of praise.
But it was when he entered the presence of Belle Demona and stood before her, that he feared for his safety.
Her lustrous eyes looked him over from head to foot, and he heard her questions about the fight with the bandits.
He answered all with coolness, and all the while was watched by Merle, who stood near and confirmed his story.
"It's all right so far," thought Old Broadbrim. "I'm the hero of the hour, but let them find me out, or even suspect me, and my life won't be worth the snuffing of a tallow dip. I am in the lion's den and I must play out my hand coolly. It is no time for fear—I must lose no nerve in this new death-trap."
Merle Macray was about to quit the room when a horse stopped in front of the ranch house and the next moment footsteps sounded on the porch.
As he reached the door it was opened in his face, and a young man, who showed signs of hard riding, came in and caught Merle's eye.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Tom?" cried the villain.
"Yes. I've a letter from Logan. He told me to spare no time, but to get it to you at once. It came to the post office this afternoon, and he gave it to me for prompt delivery."
Merle, with a face full of eagerness, took the letter which the youth extended and withdrew with a hurried glance at Belle.
"You fight like a prince," said she, looking at Old Broadbrim, who had taken in the messenger and the letter. "It's a pleasure to know that one's fortunes are in such good hands at Round Robin Ranch. Some time you will tell me about your career, for Merle says you have traveled a great deal."
Old Broadbrim bowed.
"At any time you care to hear my story it is at your disposal," he answered. "Mine has not been a very exciting life. I learned to shoot in the States when we used to have brushes with both bear and Indian."
"Accept the thanks of Belle Demona," said the ranch queen. "Consider yourself engaged for life here. Round Robin Ranch is proud to have such a protector."
The detective looked out of the window at that moment and caught a glimpse of a face on the porch among the vines.
He could not help starting at it, for it was the face of a woman with two glittering basilisk eyes.
Belle Demona did not see it, for she was looking at the new guard.
As for Merle, who had withdrawn to another room, he stood at a little table with the recently-arrived letter in his hand.
"It's from Danny. I know his writing," he said. "I wonder what the old man has to say?"
In another second he had torn open the letter, and one glance sufficed.
In that glance he had read these terrible lines:
"Be on your guard! I have just looked into the pit and it is empty. The man who fell into it the other night is not there, and I have thrown a light to the bottom of it. So look for him near you by this time, if he is a Scotland Yarder."Old Danny."
"Be on your guard! I have just looked into the pit and it is empty. The man who fell into it the other night is not there, and I have thrown a light to the bottom of it. So look for him near you by this time, if he is a Scotland Yarder.
"Old Danny."
Out of the pit?
No wonder all semblance of color left Merle's face.
No wonder he looked up with white lips that quivered like the leaves of the aspen.
Look out for him near Ranch Robin?
Where should he look?
Whom should he suspect?
He read the letter again and then crushed it in his hand.
"I'll find him if he comes here!" he hissed. "I have crossed the ocean to live again and not to fall into the hands of the shadower. I'll be ready for him. I'll find this man if he is to be found; but how did he get out? Perhaps he never fell into the place. That must be it. Why didn't I look for myself before quitting Melbourne? But never mind. I'm safe here."
A moment later he came back into the room with the calmest of faces, and his gaze caught Old Broadbrim's countenance, which stood the ordeal like a stoic's.
It was a terrible moment.
THE FACE IN THE HAY.
Five minutes later the detective walked from the house with Belle Demona's words of thanks and her good-night ringing in his ears, and sought the little corner where his bunk was.
This was in a small house not far from the main dwelling, but separate from it.
The other guards were his companions, but when he entered the place he found them all sound asleep, and their snores told him that he would have plenty of music through the night.
But it was not to sleep that the menaced detective sought the hard grass pillow of his couch.
He believed that the message received by Merle concerned his escape from the pit in Melbourne.
He felt assured that it told the hunted man that it was empty, and perhaps the letter was from Old Danny himself.
Broadbrim thought the whole matter over as the night wore on.
He recalled the face on the porch in the vines, and wondered what it meant.
Whose face was it and from whence had it come?
Midnight passed and he was not asleep.
Outside all was still, and the moon had gone down, taking with her the light which had silvered all that it touched.
Old Broadbrim suddenly heard a noise at the door.
It was a very slight one, but it was enough to tell him that something was afoot.
In a few moments the door of the sleeping quarters was pushed open, and some one came in.
Old Broadbrim heard the step as it cleared the threshold, and then feigned slumber.
Presently the rays of a dark lantern penetrated the place, and disclosed the figure of the person who carried it.
It was Merle Macray!
On came the hunted man with a lantern in one hand, and a long knife lying along the right arm.
He stepped like the Indian, and his light fell here and there upon the forms of the sleeping men.
Old Broadbrim knew what the visit meant.
Merle was looking for the detective; he was investigating in person to see if the hunter who had escaped the pit in Melbourne had yet found his way to Round Robin Ranch.
Over each sleeper the man bent and threw the light of the little bull's-eye upon him.
Old Broadbrim saw all this, while Merle searched those in the other beds, knowing well that in time he would reach him.
The crisis of his man hunt seemed to have come, but he did not lose his nerve.
At last Merle stepped to where he lay, and the detective, with closed eyes, felt that he was being subjected to a terrible examination.
Merle lingered longer over him than usual.
He held the light in various positions, so as to see all of the hunter's face, and at last he stepped back.
It was a ruse to deceive the detective, but Old Broadbrim did not open his eyes.
Not for five minutes did he stir.
He heard the little door open and shut, and then he looked and found himself in darkness.
It was over, but what had Merle discovered?
Time would tell.
Old Broadbrim slept but little the rest of the night.
He longed for day, and when the first streaks flushed the eastern skies he came forth and looked abroad.
The ordeal had been passed without a break, but the worst had to come.
All at once the front door of the ranch opened, and Merle came out.
Old Broadbrim touched his hat to him.
"You're up early, Riggs," said the hunted man. "Don't you sleep good?"
"Good enough, I guess; but I'm an early bird."
Merle came up and lowered his voice.
"Walk down the paddock road with me to the bridge," said he.
"Certainly. The morning's cool, and a little walk will help a fellow stretch his limbs."
The bridge was but a few hundred yards from the ranch dwelling, and spanned an almost waterless ravine, which was one of the wildest spots on the ranch.
The banks on either side were rocky and steep, and the bottom of the ravine was some hundreds of feet below the timber of the little bridge.
Merle talked but little during the walk to the spot, but the moment they touched the bridge he turned suddenly upon Old Broadbrim and said:
"I want you to do me a little favor. I want some help just now, and a cool man like you is just the one I want."
The detective looked at the speaker, but did not answer him.
"You don't mind a little by-play, eh Riggs?" continued Merle. "You didn't come out here just to guard a few sheep and a ranch house? You're ready for anything that promises to pay well, aren't you?"
"Certainly. Who is not?"
"That's what I thought. I took you for a free lance the moment you leaped from the saddle in front of the ranch house. I'm glad I'm not mistaken."
The detective waited for him to go on, which he did after taking breath.
"I'm in a little trouble, and there's a woman in the case," he said. "It's this way: I once met a young girl who would not listen to me. I believe I promised to marry her, but I never thought of doing that. It's the way all over the world. She is pure yet, but she's a vengeance hunter. She gives me a good bit of trouble, shadows me and all that. I don't want to be bothered with her. You understand, Riggs?"
Old Broadbrim smiled.
Of course he understood the cool-hearted villain.
"She's here again," Merle went on. "I found a footstep in the sand last night which I know was not made by Belle. Stareyes is back to Round Robin."
"Stareyes? Is that her name?"
"Yes, that's what we call her. She lives in Perth, but she wanders off to Melbourne and is ready at all times to make war between me and Belle, whom she hates with all an Australian's nature."
"But you can meet her without help, can't you?"
"Hang it, no. I have a good many things to look after here, and she's liable to turn up at any time."
"I see."
"Of course you do. Now, if she's here, as I believe she is, I want her looked after."
"And taken care of?"
"That's it, Riggs, that's it exactly. Belle is ready to pistol her at a moment's notice, but Stareyes may get her work in too soon for her, and give me a world of trouble. I want it well done."
"I can watch for her, and, if she turns up, I will take her from the ranch, and warn her not to come back again."
Merle's look at this juncture was a study.
"I don't want her to go away. I want her to remain on Ranch Robin."
"Oh!" ejaculated the detective.
"I want her to rest here forever."
"Not alive, Captain Merle?"
"As dead as Potipher's wife!" was the answer, and the eyes of the handsome speaker flashed. "I don't want this girl to bother me any longer. A little grip like the sort you've got and a little twist of her pretty neck and it will be well done."
Roland Riggs drew back and looked at Merle with pretended horror.
"You can't mean that I am expected to silence the girl?" he exclaimed.
"I mean nothing else," was the answer. "I want her out of the way. She will prove nothing in your hands, Riggs. You're one of those agile men, and one little twist will get her out of my way. I'll make you rich for the job."
It was the coolest proposition he had ever heard, and Old Broadbrim felt a thrill sweep to his heart.
He looked at the man before him and saw that he was terribly in earnest.
"She won't be hard to find," said Merle. "She's bound to show up somewhere, and I'll get you relieved from guard duty if you will undertake the work."
Merle was looking Old Broadbrim squarely in the eye and his gaze seemed to transfix him like a lance.
"It's a bargain, eh?" he cried.
"I'll try," said Old Broadbrim.
"That's all I ask. I know if you 'try' we'll get rid of this pest in skirts. Don't mince matters, Riggs. Let her have the full benefit of your grip and that will be sufficient."
Old Broadbrim cast his eyes down the ravine and seemed to measure the distance to the bottom mentally.
"Stareyes is cunning and cool. I have stood before her and seen her orbs flash like twin stars. She has one parent living, an old mother, who is either in Perth or Melbourne. She is as much a viper as her child, but never let her sting you. Take time by the forelock, Riggs."