Phoenix tribune., 1920-11-27

Saw Him Sink Slowly to the Floor at
Her Feet.
mouth a gag, which she had fashioned
from stray ends of the providential
petticoat.
Then leaping to her feet and strap
ping the ammunition belt and revolver
about her waist, she stole on tiptoe to
the doorway and peered out; the si-
lent, cavernous passage was empty.
Lithely, like a, young panther, she
slipped out of the cell and began max
ing down the passageway to spot of
! light which she judged to be its open
ing. She had scarcely gone ten feet,
however, before she stopped short
somewhere in the dark she heard a
/ voice.
What was to be done? Her temples
throbbed as the voices sounded nearer.
Then it came home to her-why not try
one of the other cells? Suiting action
| to the thought, she stepped quietly
/ from the niche in the wall, moved
noiselessly along its surface, and came
at length to another dungeon similar
I to the one she had occupied, except
that it had no window in its oaken
door. Fumbling with the bunch of
keys, she took the first one around
which her fingers fell and thrust it
/ hurriedly into the lock. She strug-
/ gled with it-turning it first to the
/ left and then to the right. The foot
/ steps were sounding nearer and near
er every minute, the voices were grow.
ing louder.
Frantic, she gave the key final des-
( escaped her lips the door swung open.
/ Slipping through the aperture, she
/ closed it softly after her and, painting
| from excitement and her exertiOns,
turned and faced the recesses of her
/ hiding-place.
1t was black, pitch-black, except for
a long ray of light that struggled in be-
tween the heavy door and its casing,
1 but as Stella Donovan stood there in
/ the gloom she was aware that she was
not the only occupant of the cell. She
crouched back, gripped in the hands of
another fear, but the next moment her
alarm was lessened somewhat by the
sound of soft, well-modulated voice.
"Whos that?" it said family.
Then followed the repeated scratch
ing of wet match, fame of yellow
| light, which was Immediately carried
to a short tallow candle, and in the
aura of its sickly flame Stella Dono-
! van saw the face of a man with long,
unkempt beard and feverish eyes that
stared at her as though she were an
apparition.
As her eyes became more accus-
toned TO the light she saw that the
/ stranger was a man of approximately
thirty, of good robust health. His hair
was sandy of color and thin, and his
! beard, which was of the same hue, had
| evidently gone untrimmed for days,
! perhaps weeks; yet for all of his un-
kenpt appearance for all the strange
ness of his presence there, he was a
gentleman, that was plain. And as
she scrutinized him Miss Donovan
thought she beheld a mild similarity in
| the contour of the mans head, the
shape of his face, the lines of his body,
to the man who several weeks be-
fore, she had seen lying dead upon the
floor of his rooms in the Waldron
apartments.
''AIy God~ he cried in high voice,
Il thought was seeing things. You
are really woman-and alive?"
Miss Donovan hesitated a moment
before she answered, wondering
whether to tell him of her narrow es-
cape. This she decided to do.
'Alive. but only by luck" she said
in friendly voice, and then reeOunted
the insults of Cateras, her struggle
with him, and capture of his cartridge
belt and revolver, and how finally she
had left him bound and gagged in the
adjoining cell. The man listened at
tentively, though his mind seemed
slow to grasp tails.
"But," he insisted, unable to clear
his brain, ''why are you here? Surely
you are not one of this gang of out
laws7"
81 am a prisoner. That is true of
you also, is it not?"