left their seats; and no man could get past "Old Jimmy," the stage
door-man, unless he could show a Skye terrier or an automobile as a
guarantee of eligibility.

Goaded beyond imprudence (as before said), Helen says to Jack Valentine:
"Robber and thief--and worse yet, stealer of trusting hearts, this
should be your fate!"

With that out she whips, of course, the trusty 32-caliber.

"But I will be merciful," goes on Helen. "You shall live--that will be
your punishment. I will show you how easily I could have sent you to the
death that you deserve. There is _her_ picture on the mantel. I will
send through her more beautiful face the bullet that should have pierced
your craven heart."

And she does it. And there's no fake blank cartridges or assistants
pulling strings. Helen fires. The bullet--the actual bullet--goes
through the face of the photograph--and then strikes the hidden spring
of the sliding panel in the wall--and lo! the panel slides, and there is
the missing $647,000 in convincing stacks of currency and bags of gold.
It's great. You know how it is. Cherry practised for two months at a
target on the roof of her boarding house. It took good shooting. In the
sketch she had to hit a brass disk only three inches in diameter,
covered by wall paper in the panel; and she had to stand in exactly the
same spot every night, and the photo had to be in exactly the same spot,
and she had to shoot steady and true every time.

Of course old "Arapahoe" had tucked the funds away there in the secret
place; and, of course, Jack hadn't taken anything except his salary