William MacLeod Raine

“ Still Dunke said nothing, but the candle-glow that lit his face showed an ugly expression.
"Don't you whip that gun out, Joe Dunke. Don't you! 'Cause why? If you do you're a goner."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I kept the letter you wrote me seven years ago, and have put it where it will do you no good if anything happens to me. That's why you won't draw that gun, Joe Dunke. If you do it will send you to Yuma. Millionaire you may be, but that won't keep you from wearing stripes." ”

“ A man was approaching through the gloom, a large man whom she presently recognized as Dunke. A quick gasp from the one beside her showed that he too knew the man. He took a dozen running steps forward, so that in his haste the candle flickered out. ”

“ What have I ever done that I should be mixed up with such men?" she cried, with bitter despair.
"Don't go off half-cocked. 'Course I'll take you to Mrs. Collins if you like. But you got to listen to what I say."
Another candle glimmered dimly in the tunnel and came toward them. It presently stopped, and a voice rolled along the vault.
"Hello, there!"
Margaret would have known that voice anywhere among a thousand. Now it came to her sweet as water after a drought. She slipped past Dunke and ran stumbling through the darkness to its source.
"Mr. Neill! Mr. Neill!" ”