Then, with a swift movement, he reached out, caught at the muffling robe and jerked it away, flinging it aside.
The gray light of dawn was in the eastern sky toward which the face of the supposed guard was turned. It was a laughing face, that of a daring American boy-Dick Merriwell!
"Brad, you're easy," he cried.
"Dead easy!" admitted Buckhart. "But you're a wonder!"
They looked back. Cavendish and Flavia had permitted their horses to slow down. Their figures could be seen against the pearl gray of the sky. He leaned toward her-she leaned toward him-their lips met.
Dick and Brad were too far away to hear her whisper:
"My Charlee!"
THE END.