ere. Well, Westcott is not liable to be sendin' fer
yer again very soon. What ther hell----"
She had dashed forward, seeking to place the trunk of the tree between
them, the unexpected movement so sudden, she avoided his grasp. But
success was only for an instant. Another hand gripped her, hurling her
back helplessly.
"You are some sweet little lady's man, Moore," snarled a new voice
raspingly. "Now let me handle this business my own way. Go get that
team turned around. I'll bring the girl. Come on now, miss, and the
less you have to say the better."
She grasped at the bark, but the fellow wrenched her loose, forcing her
forward. Her resistance evidently angered him, for he suddenly
snatched her up into the iron grip of his arms and held her there,
despite her struggles.
"Keep still, you damn tiger-cat," he hissed, "or I'll quiet you for
good. Don't take this for any play acting, or you'll soon be sorry.
There now, try it again on your own feet."
"Take your hands off me then."
"Very well--I will; but I've got something here to keep you quiet," and
he touched his belt threateningly.
"What is it you want of me? Who are you?"
"We'll discuss that later. Just now, move on--yes, straight ahead.
You see that wagon over there? Well, that is where you are bound at
present. Move on pronto."
She realised the completeness of the trap into which she had fallen,
the futility of resistance. If the man who seemed in control exhibited
any consideration, it was not from the slightest desire to show mercy,
but rather to render the work as easy as possible. She was as
helplessly in his power as though bound and gagged. Before them
appeared the dim outline of a canvas covered wagon silhouetted against
the sky, to which was hitched a team of horses.
As they approached the shapeless figures of two men appeared in the
gloom, one at the head of the team and the other holding back the
canvas top. Her guard gripped her arm, and peered about through the
darkness.
"Isn't Ned here yet?"
"Yes, all right," answered a muffled voice to the left. "I just came
out; here are the grips and other things."
"Sure you cleaned up everything?"
"Never left a pin; here, Moore, pass them up inside."
"And about the note?"
"She wrote that, and pinned it on the pillow."
"Good, that will leave things in fine shape," he laughed. "I'd like to
see Jim's face when he reads that, and the madder he gets the less he
|