to justify the swift,
strangling, killing horror that came upon her. He stood simply gazing,
and as she met his gaze her lips parted and drew back in a grimace of
terror; thus they stood until the blood began to leap fast in Chan's
veins. She needed no further disillusionment. Chan spoke behind her, a
startled oath cut off short, and she felt him moving swiftly toward her.
It was her last instant of respite; and her muscle set and drew for a
final, desperate attempt at self-defense.

She wore Ben's knife at her belt, and her hand sped toward it. But the
motion, fast as it was, came too late. Chan saw it; and leaping swiftly,
his arms went about her and pinned her own arms to her sides.

She tried in vain to fight her way out of his grasp. She writhed,
screaming; and in the frenzy of her fear she all but succeeded in
hurling him off. She managed to draw the knife clear of the sheath, yet
she couldn't raise her arm to strike. Ray was aiding his confederate
now; and in an instant more she was helpless.

Their drawn faces bent close to hers. She felt their hot hands as they
drew her wrists in front of her and fastened them with a rope. "Not too
tight, Chan," Ray advised. "We don't want her to get uncomfortable
before we're done with her. Don't tie her ankles; she can't run through
the brush with her arms tied.--Now give her a moment to breathe."

They stood on each side of her, regarding her with secret, growing
excitement. Already they had descended too far to know pity for this
girl. The wide-open eyes, so dark with terror and in contrast with the
stark paleness of her face, the lips that trembled so piteously, the
slender, girlish figure so helpless to their depraved desires moved them
not at all.

The scene was one of never-to-be-forgotten vividness. The tenderness and
mercy, most of all the restraint that has become manifest in men in
these centuries since they have left their forest lairs to live in
permanent abodes, had no place here. About them ringed the primeval
forest, ensilvered by the moon; the fire crackled with a dread ferocity;
and at the edge of the thickets the motionless form of Jeffery Neilson
lay with face buried in the soft, summer grass. All was silent and
motionless, except the fierce crackling of the fire; except a curious,
intermittent, upward twitching of the corner of Ray's lips.

"So you and Ben are bunkies now, are you?" he asked slowly, without
emphasis.

But the girl made no reply, o