"Next time it will be the head I aim at, not the arm!" Then, lifting up her voice in one loud shriek that made the echoes bound, she called with all her strength; "Help, somebody--for God's sake help! Scream, Ceddie--scream! Help! Help!" And lo! as she called, as if a miracle had been wrought, out of the darkness an answering voice called back to her, and the wild, swift notes of a motor horn bleated along the lonely road.
"I'm coming--I--Cleek!" that voice rang out.

"Hold your own--hold it to the last, Miss Lorne, and God help the man who lays a finger on you!" "Mr.Cleek! Mr.Cleek, oh, thank God!" she flung back with all the rapture a human voice could contain.

"Come on, come on! I've got him--got that man Merode, and the boy is safe, the boy is safe! Come on! come on! come on!" "We're a-comin', miss, you gamble on that--and the lightnin's a fool to us!" shouted Dollops in reply.

"Let her have it, Gov'nor! Bust the bloomin' tank.

Give her her head; give her her feet; give her her blessed merry-thought if she wants it! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" And then, just then, when she most needed her strength and her courage, Ailsa's evaporated.