CHAPTER II
When the Burglar awoke to consciousness he was as near heaven as anymere man ever dares expect to be. He was comfortable--quitecomfortable--wrapped in a delicious, languorous lassitude which forbadehim opening his eyes to realisation. A woman's hand lay on his forehead,caressingly, and dimly he knew that another hand cuddled cosily in oneof his own. He lay still, trying to remember, before he opened his eyes.Someone beside him breathed softly, and he listened, as if to music.
Gradually the need of action--just what action and to what purpose didnot occur to him--impressed itself on his mind. He raised the disengagedhand to his face and touched the mask, which had been pushed back on hisforehead. Then he recalled the ball, the shot, the chase, the hiding inthe woods. He opened his eyes with a start. Utter darkness lay abouthim--for a moment he was not certain whether it was the darkness ofblindness or of night.
"Dick, are you awake?" asked the Girl softly.
He knew the voice and was content.
"Yes," he answered languidly.
He closed his eyes again and some strange, subtle perfume seemed toenvelop him. He waited. Warm lips were pressed to his own, thrilling himstrangely, and the Girl rested a soft cheek against his.
"We have been very foolish, Dick," she said, sweetly chiding, after amoment. "It was all my fault for letting you expose yourself to danger,but I didn't dream of such a thing as this happening. I shall neverforgive myself, because----"
"But----" he began protestingly.
"Not another word about it now," she hurried on. "We must go very soon.How do you feel?"
"I'm all right, or will be in a minute," he responded, and he made as ifto rise. "Where is the car?"
"Right here. I extinguished the lights and managed to stop the enginefor fear those horrid people who were after us might notice."
"Good girl!"
"When you jumped out and fainted I jumped out, too. I'm afraid I was notvery clever, but I managed to bind your arm. I took my handkerchief andpressed it against the wound after ripping your coat, then I bound itthere. It stopped the flow of blood, but, Dick, dear, you must havemedical attention just as soon as possible."
The Burglar moved his shoulder a little and winced.
"Just as soon as I did that," the Girl went on, "I made you comfortablehere on a cushion from the car."
"Good girl!" he said again.
"Then I sat down to wait until you got better. I had no stimulant oranything, and I didn't dare to leave you, so--so I just waited," sheended with a weary little sigh.
"How long was I knocked out?" he queried.
"I don't know; half an hour, perhaps."
"The bag is all right, I suppose?"
"The bag?"
"The bag with the stuff--the one I threw in the car when we started?"
"Oh, yes, I suppose so! Really, I hadn't thought of it."
"Hadn't thought of it?" repeated the Burglar, and there was a trace ofastonishment in his voice. "By George, you're a wonder!" he added.
He started to get on his feet, then dropped back weakly.
"Say, girlie," he requested, "see if you can find the bag in the carthere and hand it out. Let's take a look."
"Where is it?"
"Somewhere in front. I felt it at my feet when I jumped out."
There was a rustle of skirts in the darkness, and after a moment a faintmuffled clank as of one heavy metal striking dully against another.
"Goodness!" exclaimed the Girl. "It's heavy enough. What's in it?"
"What's in it?" repeated the Burglar, and he chuckled. "A fortune,nearly. It's worth being punctured for. Let me see."
In the darkness he took the bag from her hands and fumbled with it amoment. She heard the metallic sound again and then several heavyobjects were poured out on the ground.
"A good fourteen pounds of pure gold," commented the Burglar. "ByGeorge, I haven't but one match, but we'll see what it's like."
The match was struck, sputtered for a moment, then flamed up, and theGirl, standing, looked down upon the Burglar on his knees beside a heapof gold plate. She stared at the glittering mass as if fascinated, andher eyes opened wide.
"Why, Dick, what is that?" she asked.
"It's Randolph's plate," responded the Burglar complacently. "I don'tknow how much it's worth, but it must be several thousands, on deadweight."
"What are you doing with it?"
"What am I doing with it?" repeated the Burglar. He was about to look upwhen the match burned his finger and he dropped it. "That's a sillyquestion."
"But how came it in your possession?" the Girl insisted.
"I acquired it by the simple act of--of dropping it into a bag andbringing it along. That and you in the same evening----" He stretchedout a hand toward her, but she was not there. He chuckled a little as heturned and picked up eleven plates, one by one, and replaced them in thebag.
"Nine--ten--eleven," he counted. "What luck did _you_ have?"
"Dick Herbert, explain to me, please, what you are doing with that goldplate?" There was an imperative command in the voice.
The Burglar paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Oh, I'm taking it to have it fixed!" he responded lightly.
"Fixed? Taking it this way at this time of the night?"
"'It must be several thousands, on dead weight'"]
"Sure," and he laughed pleasantly.
"You mean you--you--you _stole_ it?" The words came with an effort.
"Well, I'd hardly call it that," remarked the Burglar. "That's a harshword. Still, it's in my possession; it wasn't given to me, and I didn'tbuy it. You may draw your own conclusions."
The bag lay beside him and his left hand caressed it idly, lovingly. Fora long time there was silence.
"What luck did _you_ have?" he asked again.
There was a startled gasp, a gurgle and accusing indignation in theGirl's low, tense voice.
"You--you _stole_ it!"
"Well, if you prefer it that way--yes."
The Burglar was staring steadily into the darkness toward that pointwhence came the voice, but the night was so dense that not a trace ofthe Girl was visible. He laughed again.
"It seems to me it was lucky I decided to take it at just this time andin these circumstances," he went on tauntingly--"lucky for you, I mean.If I hadn't been there you would have been caught."
Again came the startled gasp.
"What's the matter?" demanded the Burglar sharply, after anothersilence. "Why don't you say something?"
He was still peering unseeingly into the darkness. The bag of gold platemoved slightly under his hand. He opened his fingers to close them moretightly. It was a mistake. The bag was drawn away; his handgrasped--air.
"Stop that game now!" he commanded angrily. "Where are you?"
He struggled to his feet. His answer was the crackling of a twig to hisright. He started in that direction and brought up with a bump againstthe automobile. He turned, still groping blindly, and embraced a treewith undignified fervour. To his left he heard another slight noise andran that way. Again he struck an obstacle. Then he began to say things,expressive things, burning things from the depths of an impassionedsoul. The treasure had gone--disappeared into the shadows. The Girl wasgone. He called, there was no answer. He drew his revolver fiercely,then reconsidered and flung it down angrily.
"And I thought _I_ had nerve!" he declared. It was a compliment.