But the dramatic appeal he had anticipated was not made.  The Pearl, after one recall after another, had thrown a final kiss to her appreciative audience, had retired to her dressing room and positively refused to appear again.

The sheriff sat down limply for a moment.  “I’m beat,” he said to the man who had shared his fears, “just beat.  The Lord is sure on our side to-night.  Gosh!  They had the whole thing in their own hands and didn’t know it.  Well, the rest is pie.  All we got to do is to take ’em all nice an’ quiet now, and probably not a gun drawed.”  He moved about giving his orders to different men about the hall.

Slowly the good-humored, laughing crowd filed out.  The presence of the sheriff and the various deputies aroused no suspicion.  It was but natural that any one who could get there from the surrounding camps should be present.

About half of the people had passed through the narrow door when Pearl made her appearance at the back of the hall.  She had thrust her arms into a long, fur-lined crimson cloak, but it fell open from the neck down, revealing her crimson and gold frock and gleaming emeralds.  A black lace mantilla was thrown over her head and half over her face, showing only her sparkling eyes.  She began taking various gay, little steps, still full of that joy of movement which had possessed her all evening.

Those who remained in the hall began to laugh and applaud.  She danced a moment in response to it, and then, pausing, suddenly bowed low and shook her head definitely.  Then she wrapped her cloak closely about her, turning up its wide, fur-lined collar, and, linking her arm with Hughie’s, came down the room with him still taking those irrepressible little steps.  Just as she reached the door she whisked a handkerchief from a pocket in her cloak and held it to her nose.  A waft of exquisite perfume filled the air, but the eyes of the two deputies who guarded the door were fixed with an almost stunned astonishment upon the jewels which covered her bare hands.

The sheriff had given orders that the Pearl and Hughie, Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Nitschkan were to be allowed to pass, were, in fact, to be got out of the hall just as quickly as possible; but these orders had not been clearly understood and the two deputies at the door halted Pearl, Hughie and Mrs. Thomas, who was close to them.

Before either Pearl or Hughie could protest Seagreave, who had been about ten feet behind them, was at their side.  “Let them pass,” he said.  “Those are your orders.”

“I hadn’t heard it,” said the other man, “and I’m not taking my orders from you.”

But the words were scarcely out of his mouth before Seagreave’s arm, that “left” which had floored many an opponent in the old days of his middle-weight championship, shot out in a hook, lightning-like, to the right side of the jaw of the nearest deputy.  The man reeled under that impact and went crashing over against his companion, bringing them both in a heap to the floor.  At the same moment Pearl, grasping Hughie’s arm, pulled him about the two who lay half stunned and was out of the door like a flash.