Silently and swiftly she stepped forward to the head of the stair.
What she saw now was this: Carlisle and Kammerer, themselves now armed with weapons carelessly left in the lower hall, had passed unnoticed from the dining-room, and now were tiptoeing down the hall toward the door of Dunwody's apartment.

Clayton and his men, dulled with loss of sleep, had allowed them to leave the main room, and these two, soldiers by training, had resolved to turn the tables and take possession of the place.

Their plans were at the point of success.

They had almost reached the door of Dunwody's room, weapons in hand, when from above they heard a sharp command.
"Halt, there!" a woman cried to them.
They turned and looked up, arrested by the unmistakable quality in the tones.

They saw her leaning against the baluster of the stair, one arm bound tightly to her side, the other resting a revolver barrel along the baluster and glancing down it with a fearless eye.
She took a step or two lower down the stair, sliding the weapon with her.