CONCLUSION.

The struggle was short and decisive.

Supple though the younger Gregg was, he was no match for the man from Leadville, and it was not long ere Mr. Thornton had his man pinned firmly beneath him, so that he could not move.

By this time the villagers had arrived upon the scene, in numbers, and stood contemplating the scene, in wonder.

"What is the matter here?" one of them demanded, stepping forward. "Who set fire to this building?"

"That I am not prepared to say, as I just came," Mr. Thornton replied, "but I know that I have captured one of the worst villains living. Is there an officer of the law among you? If so, I want him to take this devil into immediate custody, and watch well that he don't escape."

"I am a constable, but I must first know what charge you have against this young man of highly respected family," another villager said.

"Charges enough to hang him higher than Haman, if you like," the speculator cried. "He has my daughter imprisoned somewhere, in hopes of extorting money from me; he is wanted in Leadville, Colorado, for no less than three cold-blooded murders, and also for horse-theft, and I've got papers to show for it!"

"It's a lie! It's a mistake! This man is crazy!" young Gregg shouted. "I appeal to you for protection, gentlemen!"

"Protection you shall have, sir, by law, if you deserve it!" the constable replied, slipping a pair of hand-cuffs upon the young man's wrists.

"Now, sir"—to Mr. Thornton—"permit me to examine your papers."

The speculator drew a package of documents from an inside coat-pocket, and the officer gave them a critical examination.

"They are all right," he said, returning them.

"For the present, I will leave the scoundrel in your charge—until I recover my lost daughter!" Mr. Thornton said.

"That you will never do, curse you!" Griffith Gregg hissed, savagely. "You've sealed her doom, in tackling me, and you may as well put a mourning band around your hat."

"What! do you dare to tell me my daughter is in peril, sir?"

"Well, that remains to be told. It is according to whether I am released or not. If not, most assuredly you will never see her or the money she stole, for if I am to answer for all the charges you have preferred against me, I can just as well add a few more, without any inconvenience."

"We shall see about that. I think a rigid search will find her. Officer, remove him to a place of safety, until I determine upon a future course of action."

The constable accordingly took his departure, marching the younger Gregg with him.

The fire had by this time gained great headway.

It leaped in great crackling volumes from the roof, and burst through the sides in fiery forks. The whole interior was a seething furnace of lurid flame, and timbers were already beginning to fall in.

"Where is Silly Sue?" some one cried, and the question went from mouth to mouth. "She sometimes sleeps in the old house."

"Silly Sue, as you call her, is dead," Mr. Thornton announced.

"Dead!" the villagers exclaimed, gathering around him—"Silly Sue dead?"

"Yes, dead, and lies in the shanty down the road, belonging to Hal Hartly, who has gone to some neighboring town to arrange for her burial!" the speculator said. Then he related what he knew concerning the brutal whipping she had had, at the hands of Gregg senior.

A murmur of indignation ran through the crowd as he spoke, and though some of the men did not cry out against the guilty man, the majority were greatly excited.

"Do you swear this is true?" one of the villagers cried, angrily.

"Ay—swear it a hundred times, if you like. If you have any doubts on the matter, it will take but a few moments to examine the poor child's form, upon which welts and bloody cuts yet remain to be seen."

"Then, I for one propose we give Greyville as good as he meted out!" the man cried, whose name was Tompkins. "I always had a private idea that he was a villain, and now I need no further proof to confirm it. All in favor of hauling him out and lynching him, make manifest by saying 'I.'"

There was a decisive shout among all but about ten of the men, who maintained a grim silence.

"Lynching is a crime, gentlemen," Mr. Thornton said, "in the East, which would render you liable. It can do no harm to give the human monster a taste of the whip, however, and then turn him over to the rigor of the law."

"Perhaps you are right," Tompkins agreed. "Come along, boys! We'll teach the wretch that he must be civilized, if he will live in a civilized country!"

And the sturdy villager led off, the whole crowd following in his rear with indignant faces.

There was indeed a dark look-out for Captain Gregg.

From his library window in the village mansion he was watching the fire, and saw the crowd march in a funeral-like procession down from the bluff along the beach toward the village.

The countess saw, too, and compressed her lips tightly.

"Ze crisis is coming!" she hissed, sharply—so sharply that he started violently. "Ze crowd has heard of ze girl's death, and are coming for you."

He turned deathly pale; they would show him no mercy, as he had shown none to Susie, he well knew.

"We must escape from here, somehow!" he cried. "To submit to arrest means death—for you as well as myself."

"How so?"

"Did you not witness the whipping without attempting to interfere?" he sneered. "They'd string you up as quick as I—especially when investigation came to prove you to be Madame Lisset, the notorious French smuggler."

The woman's turn it was to whiten now, and a suppressed curse escaped from between her clinched teeth.

"I vas one big fool for evaire anchoring here, or having you for me agent," she replied. "Somesing must be done, and zat vera quick. What s'all it be?"

"There is but one course—flight. Go to my room and get all the money and jewels there. When you come back, I will be ready."

She obeyed, and in a very short space of time returned, dressed ready for escape.

Leaving the house by the rear door, they skulked hurriedly along a narrow lane.

This soon brought them out into the country, and into an orchard.

Without pausing, the chief of smugglers made a wide detour, which finally brought them out upon the beach, half a mile north of the village, and directly opposite the steamer "Countess," which lay a good two miles out at sea, at anchor.

A light row-boat was drawn upon the beach. This Gregg pushed off into the water, and sprung in, the countess following him. Then, seizing the oars, he pulled with all his skill and strength toward the steamer.

At the same time, a boat manned by half a dozen men, pulled out from the beach in front of the village, and this, too, was headed toward the steamer.

"Ha! they've suspected our dodge!" Gregg growled, on discovering the pursuit. "Curse them! I did not think discovery of our flight would be made so quickly."

"Will zey reach ze boat first?"

"By no means. I've got the start, and the steamer is a good half a mile farther from them than us, if not more!"

Let us look after Fritz.

The roof of the old rookery on the bluff has just fallen in, and millions of sparks go up toward the cloudy sky.

Is the young detective still within that old building?

He had heard Hartly, when he ran through the house, setting fire to it, and had yelled at the top of his voice for assistance.

But, either Hartly had not heard or did not heed his cries, for no assistance came.

Out in the hall, which adjoined the doorless room, the flames soon began to crackle ominously, and the pungent smell of smoke crept through the wall to his nostrils.

For a few moments Fritz stood transfixed with horror, as the peril of his situation began to dawn upon him.

He knew by the smell that the house was on fire; he knew that if he did not make a hasty escape he would be consumed in the merciless flames.

What was he to do?

Really, what was there he could do?

He rushed about, scarcely aware what he was doing.

Suddenly his foot caught upon something, and he fell violently to the floor.

In all his after life he could look back with gladness upon that mishap, as it was the means of saving him from an awful death.

Quickly scrambling to his feet, he searched the floor; a moment later his hand came in contact with an iron ring. Pulling upon it, he raised a trap in the floor, disclosing a large aperture leading down into another pit below, which he concluded was a cellar.

Without pausing to consider what he was doing, he dropped down through the hole.

Anything was preferable to the horrible danger above.

He landed upon his feet upon a hard bottom of the cellar into which he had leaped.

In a moment thereafter there was a crash, and a portion of the rear roof over the cellar fell in.

The light of the burning timbers now gave him a view of his situation.

The cellar ran in under the whole of the house, and was nearly filled with boxes. The only stairway had been covered by the caving in of the floor, thus closing this avenue of escape.

The caving in, in turn, had been mainly caused by the falling of a heavy girder, from the second floor.

Directly in front of where Fritz had landed was a large well-like hole in the ground, that looked as if it might be very deep, and his only wonder was that he had not stepped off into it, in the darkness that had prevailed immediately after he had struck into the cellar.

"I vonder off dot vas a well, or ish der hole vot leads down into der cavern," he muttered, peering over the edge. "If der latter vos der case, I'm all righd, providin' I can git down. But off id vos a well, den I vos a gone sucker sure. I don'd see anydings off der rope-ladder."

Looking above his head, he however, discovered where a staple had been recently drawn out of a joist, and this satisfied him that it had been where the ladder had been fastened to, and that the hole was the same that penetrated into the cavern in the bluff.

"Der next t'ing vas to get down dere," he muttered. "If I jump, like ash not I preak mine neck, und den I pe ash pad off ash before, of not vorse."

There seemed no other way of getting down, however, and he resolved to take his chances, rather than remain in the cellar and become a target for the fallen fiery timbers.

With a prayer for safety he made the uncertain leap.

Down—down—down he went with a velocity that took his breath, and he knew no more, except being conscious of striking the earth with a heavy jar.

When he recovered his senses he was in the outer cave, and Madge Thornton was kneeling over him, chafing his hands.

The cavern was dense with smoke, and breathing was difficult.

Fritz comprehended the situation at once and sat up.

"I vas come down like a t'ousand of bricks, eh?" he smiled, feeling of his limbs to learn if any of them were seriously damaged. "I forgot all apoud vere I vas going all at vonce. How you got oud off der dungeon?"

"Good luck would have it that Griffith, in his passion should have thrown the bolt of the padlock when the catch was not in, so I easily reached out my hand, drew the padlock off, and got out into the chamber," Madge replied. "What is the matter? Is the old house burning?"

"Yes. We must get oud off here or ve shoke to death. Off it gets too deep, I vil swim mit you t'rough dot hole."

He accordingly arose to his feet, and raising her in his arms, he waded toward the aperture, and outside of the cavern, around to the southern beach, the water in the deepest place but reaching to his throat.

"By shimminy dunder, I feel yoost like ash if I vas tickled to death, t'ings haff turned oud so vell," Fritz cried, as he placed Madge on her feet. "A vile ago I vas ash goot ash guff up for a roasted Dutchman; now I vas oud, und so vas you, und I feel better ash a spring lamb."

"Are you sure we are out of danger?"

"Vel, no, not eggsactly sure, but I t'ink ve pe all righd now. Yoost you sday here in der shadow off yer pluff, vile I skirmish aroundt und see vot's to pay."

She accordingly did as directed, while he clambered up the side of the bluff, bent on reconnoisance.

The first man and only man he met was Mr. Thornton, who had hurried back from the village to the bluff as soon as Captain Gregg was discovered missing, to keep watch in the vicinity.

He uttered a cry of joy as he saw Fritz.

"Why, bless you, boy, I never expected to see you again!" he cried, shaking the young detective by the hand.

"Und you come purdy near id, too, you can bet a half-dollar, Mr. Thornton, for I yoost got oud off der building here in time to save mine vool. But I haff got your daughter, und der monish vas safe!"

"What! you do not tell me this for a fact, Fritz?"

"Vel, off I don'd misdake, it vas. Yoost vait here, und I pring you der girl. Ash to der money, she vas no fool, und put it avay vere she can get it again."

He vanished, only to reappear a few minutes later, accompanied by Madge.

Then followed a touching scene. The speculator received his lost daughter with open arms; there were explanations, and kisses, and tears, and laughs, and the reunion was now complete.

Leaving them to their joy, let us take a concluding glance at the ocean race, which was in the meantime transpiring.

The pursuers saw Gregg pull out from the shore as soon as he saw them; and they tugged at their oars with a will.

"Pull, boys!" Tompkins cried, from his position at the steering-oar. "See! the woman is waving her handkerchief! That is a signal to the crew on board to fire up, ready to be off. Pull—pull for your worth! We must intercept them, if possible, before they board!"

The villagers did pull, with a will, and their boat fairly leaped over the water.

Tompkins had guessed the truth. The countess's signal did result in the crew's raising anchor, and in unbanking the slumbering fires, for huge volumes of smoke almost immediately began to roll from the smokestacks.

But, pull though they did, with almost super-human efforts, the pursuers were destined not to win.

Gregg's boat reached the steamer while the villagers were yet eight minutes distant, and he and the countess clambered aboard. Then the steamer's whistle gave a defiant shriek, and the craft began to move away.

As she did so, the pursuers saw a man suddenly leap overboard into the water.

Pulling on, they came to him, just as he was sinking for the last time.

It was Hal Hartly, and he was mortally wounded.

He only spoke once after they pulled him aboard; it was to gasp out faintly:

"She's doomed! I've scuttled her!"

Then the blood spurted from his mouth, and he expired, while the "Countess" steamed away to sea, and was lost from view, and Captain Gregg the smuggler was lost from the clutches of the law.

What was the fate of the "Countess" is not definitely known, but she never again entered the port of Havre, nor was a soul on board of her ever afterward seen.

The Philadelphia detectives who arrived the next day found no one to arrest, as those on whom suspicion could justly rest, had fled, during the night.

Susie and Hal Hartly received a respectable burial, at the expense of Mr. Thornton; then, after paying Fritz as promised, the sum of five thousand dollars, the speculator set out for his Western home, accompanied by his daughter, and by Griffith Gregg, who was to go back to the scene of his crimes, for trial.

With his reward money, Fritz immediately returned to Philadelphia, and soon after purchased an interest in a paying established business, where he may be seen 'most any day, when not on detective duty, or if he is out, his pretty wife Rebecca will represent him.