ess, overwhelmed her. That this was no trick of a moment but a
calculated scheme to abase and possess her she now realized with a
sort of dull horror. And on top of all he was, despite his denial,
partly drunk.

Through the terror of her situation two thoughts now continued to
course like fiery threads--one a hope, one a purpose. The former
rested on Juanita, whom in his inflamed ferocity of intention, the man
seemed to have forgotten--on Juanita and Steele Weir, "Cold Steel"
Weir; and this failing, there remained the latter, a set idea to kill
herself before this brute at her side worked his will. Somehow she
could and would kill herself. Somehow she would find the means to free
her hands and the instrument to pierce her heart.

Sorenson had switched on his lights. He drove the car through the damp
darkness at headlong speed along the trail that leaped from the gloom
to meet them and vanished behind. At the end of a quarter of an hour
he swung into a canyon; and Janet perceived they were ascending Terry
Creek. He stopped the car anew.

"I'll just take no chances with you," he exclaimed. "We have to pass
your friends, the Johnsons, you know. Had to take my stuff up here in
the middle of the night--up one night and back the next--and mighty
still too, so that they wouldn't suspicion I was fixing a little
bower for you."

He bound a cloth over her mouth and again flung the blanket over her
head. Janet struggled fiercely for a moment, but finally sank back
choking and half in a faint. She was barely conscious of the car's
climbing again. Though when passing the ranch house the man drove with
every care for silence, she was not aware of the fact. Her breath,
mind, soul, were stifled. She seemed transfixed in a hideous
nightmare.

At length her lips and head were released. But her hands and feet were
numb. Still feeling as if she were in some dreadful dream she saw the
beam of the headlights picking out the winding trail, flashing on
trees by the wayside, shining on wet rocks, heard the chatter of the
creek over stones and the labor of the engine.

The road was less plain, a mere track now, and steeper. They were
climbing, climbing up the mountain side, up into the heavier timber,
up into one of the "parks" among the peaks. Johnson's ranch was miles
behind and far below. Occasionally billows of fog swathed them in wet
folds that sent a chill to Janet's bones.

Sorenson held his watch down to the driver's light.

"