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The noise increased, and they could distinguish voices. Hippolitus believed the murderers were returned; that they had traced his retreat, and were coming towards the vault by some way unknown to him. He prepared for the worst—and drawing his sword, resolved to defend Julia to the last. Their apprehension, however, was soon dissipated by a trampling of horses, which sound had occasioned his alarm, and which now seemed to come from a courtyard above, extremely near the vault. He distinctly heard the voices of the banditti, together with the moans and supplications of some person, whom it was evident they were about to plunder. The sound appeared so very near, that Hippolitus was both shocked and surprised; and looking round the vault, he perceived a small grated window placed very high in the wall, which he concluded overlooked the place where the robbers were assembled. He recollected that his light might betray him; and horrible as was the alternative, he was compelled to extinguish it. He now attempted to climb to the grate, through which he might obtain a view of what was passing without. This at length he effected, for the ruggedness of the wall afforded him a footing. He beheld in a ruinous court, which was partially illuminated by the glare of torches, a group of banditti surrounding two persons who were bound on horseback, and who were supplicating for mercy.,

Bob was surprised when he saw the man roll a cigarette and coolly light it. This display of unconcern as to whether or not he was observed, did not fit in with the dodging tactics he had employed when coming up the hill. Then the explanation came in a flash. Surely the spot had been chosen on account of the clear space around it and the impossibility of anyone’s coming upon it unobserved. The man had dodged on his way up because he did not want to be recognized by a prowling night watchman. Once he had arrived, no one could get near enough to be dangerous.,

Suddenly Bob remembered that he had left his job in the office without anybody’s authority. The excitement had made him forget that he had a job. Now, when everything was quiet, the realization that probably he had been missed came to him and he started to make tracks in the general direction of the office. He had not gone far, however, when he heard a familiar voice hail him from behind. It was Mr. Whitney, so he slowed up and turned.,

“Yes, Aunt Grenertsen. I’ll go right up now, this minute.”

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“Yep,” answered Bob.,

MY, oh, my! Tomorrow would be the day before Christmas and Johnny Blossom hadn’t thought about a single present yet, for any one. He would have to hurry now, though after all he wasn’t in such a bad fix, for he had some money—fifty cents, in fact—and that was surely enough and to spare.,

Till all the landscape sinks into the shade.,

“But it is a terrible thing. Carlstrom says that I’ve ruined Bob riding him so hard and that Bob must be”—