Mary Roberts Rinehart

“ In the shaded light he saw that she wore a dark cape, with its hood drawn over her head. In some strange fashion the maid, even the woman, was lost, and she stood, strange, mysterious, and dramatic in the little room.
“If you found Jud Clark, what would you do with him?” she demanded. From beneath the hood her eyes searched his face. “Turn him over to Wilkins and his outfit?”
“I think you know better than that.”
“Have you got any plan?”
“Plan? No. They've got every outlet closed, haven't they? Do you know where he is?” ”

“ Thought it was a fire.”
“Don't stall, Bassett. You've had Jud Clark hidden upstairs in three-twenty all day.”
Bassett got up and towered angrily over the sheriff. The crowd had turned and was watching.
“In three-twenty?” he said. “You're crazy. Jud Clark! Let me tell you something. I don't know what you've got in your head, but three-twenty is a Doctor Livingstone from near my home town. Well known and highly respected, too. What's more, he's a sick man, and if he's got away, as you say, it's because he is delirious. ”

“ And I know Jud Clark. He'd take to the mountains, same as he did before. He's got a good horse.”
“A horse!”
“Listen. I haven't told this, and I don't mean to. They'll learn it in a couple of hours, anyhow. He got out by a back fire-escape—they know that. But they don't know he took Ed Rickett's black mare. They think he's on foot. I've been down there now, and she's gone. Ed's shut up in a room on the top floor, playing poker. They won't break up until about three o'clock and he'll miss his horse then. That's two hours yet.”
Bassett tried to see her face in the shadow of the hood. ”

“ They'll get him anywhere else.”
He mounted and prepared to ride off. He would have shaken hands with her, but the horse was still terrified at her shrouded figure and veered and snorted when she approached. “However it turns out,” he said, “you've done your best, and I'm grateful.” ”