"that the unknown stranger names
him seven kinds of fool. To think he could get across this way and sneak
that little wad by me! And by the by, it's getting late and if you don't
mind I'll take what's coming to me and move on."

Then she found her tongue, the fires blazed up in her eyes and a hot
flush came into her pale cheeks.

"Big brute and cur and coward!" she flung at him. "Woman-fighter!"

"All of that," he laughed insolently. "And then some. And you? Grey
eyed, pink beauty! By God, girl, you'd make an armful for a man! Soon to
be queen of Dead Man's Alley, eh? I'll see you there; I'll come and pay
my respects! Oh, but I will, coward that I am! But now...."

"There! Take it! Take it! Oh...."

She shuddered away from him, her face went white again, she grew cold
with the fear upon her. Just then she cared infinitely little for the
sheaf of banknotes in the yellow envelope which the banker had given to
her. She jerked the parcel out from her dress and tossed it to him, her
fingers fumbling with the button of the thin garment under which her
heart was beating wildly. And the little "toy pistol" she could have
hurled from her, too. Against this physical bigness, against this
insolent bravado and this swift sureness of eye and muscle, she knew the
small weapon to be a ridiculous and utterly insufficient plaything.

He caught the envelope and thumbed it, tore off an end and glanced
swiftly at the contents and then stowed it away inside his grey flannel
shirt. Again his eyes came back to her.

"I'm in a hurry," he said swiftly. "But there's always time for a girl
like you!"

She had foreseen how it would be. Now that she struggled to draw her
tiny revolver and fire he was upon her, his long arms about her, his
muscular strength making her own as nothing. And though he was breathing
more quickly still he had his quiet insolent laugh for still further
insult. Though she sought to strike at him he held her in utter
helplessness. Slowly he lifted her face, a big hand under her chin. The
lamp was close by; he blew down the chimney and save for the moonlight
across the threshold it was dark in the cabin. With his other hand he
lifted his crude mask from the lower part of his face. She sought again
to strike, to batter his lips. But her heart sank as the relentless
rigidity of his embrace baffled her attempt. He brought his face closer
to hers, slowly closer until at last she knew the outrage of a violent
kiss....