perceived the abject terror of the man. It mitigated her wrath
with scorn, and so saved him for the moment. She cried out to him
fiercely, her voice rough with abhorrence.

"To the gate fer yer answer, ye cowardly houn'. Move quick, er I'll
drap ye in yer tracks, ye murderin' wolf. Do as I say!"

She moved another step toward him. Her voice rose shrill:

"Drap thet rifle-gun!"

The weapon slipped from Hodges' nerveless fingers, and fell on the
turf with a soft thud.

"Put up yer han's!"

Cowed, the man thrust his long arms to their length above his head.

"Now, turn round, an' march to the gate!"

There was no faltering in the obedience.

The hulking bully knew that he was in mortal peril. For his life's
sake, he dared neither word nor gesture of resistance to the girl's
will. His only hope was that the hidden ally might somehow come to his
aid. But the hope was feeble. He knew the other's craven spirit.

Plutina, too, knew it. As she drove her captive to the gate, she
peered, and saw the crouching figure still in the shadows behind the
bush. The Colt's cracked. Even as Hodges shuddered, imagining the
tearing of the bullet through his own flesh, there came a shriek of
pain from beyond him. The hidden man leaped forth, his right arm
dangling clumsily. He scrambled into the cover of the spruces and
vanished. The noises of his flight lessened, died.

"I've scotched a snake," Plutina said, malignantly. "Hit's about time
to kill the dawg, I reckon. Turn round." Then, when he had obeyed, she
went on speaking. "Now, hyar at the gate, I'll tell ye somethin'.
You-all 'lowed ye could git me with money. If ye had all they is in
the world, hit wouldn't be enough. An' ye thought I tuk money fer
reportin' the still. Wall, I didn't. I reported thet-thar still o'
your'n kase I seed ye a-settin' b'ar-traps fer humans, an' hit made
me hate ye even wuss 'n I done hated ye afore."

Somehow, the flame of her fury was dying. The girl felt this, and
bitterly resented it, yet she was powerless. It seemed to her that
with all the strength of her nature she was desirous of killing this
enemy. He stood cowering before her in dread. Her finger on the
trigger needed only the slightest flexing to speed the death he
merited. And, for some occult reason, the will to slay failed her. She
was enraged against her own weakness of resolve. Nevertheless, she was
helpless. Her mood had reached its climax in the impulsive wounding of
the other