"Any new ideas this mornin'?"
"Nary a one," Sudden told him. "Yo're what a friend o' mine calls `stale-mated.' Murderin' me won't get yu what yo're after, an' lettin' me live won't neither."
"I ain't so shore. There's means to make a man open his mouth--if it's on'y to squeal."
"Go right ahead."
"I'm aimin' to. When I've done with you--"
"Yu'll be wise as before--still dumb." With an oath the man turned away, but Lora drew him aside.
"Have you no sense at all?" she asked sharply. "Can't you see the type you are dealing with? He's as obstinate as a mule and torture won't move him."
"He's a tough hombre, all right, as some of us has reason to know," the man growled, "but s'pos'n the--persuasion--is applied to you?" The woman's cheeks became a shade paler at this diabolic suggestion but she answered steadily: "It would make no difference--he's not my lover, and these gunmen have no feelings. Besides"--and her glance was soft, caressing--"you wouldn't do anything to hurt me--Hank."
"Who gave you my name?" he asked suspiciously.
"I heard one of the others call you," she explained. "You don't mind my knowing, do you?" He muttered a curse and through the slits in the mask his greedy gaze roamed over her, from the slender feet in their trim riding-boots to the felt hat set jauntily on the wealth of glossy black hair. She endured the scrutiny with a reliant smile.
"Well?" she asked.
"Yo're a good-looker, for shore," he admitted. "What's yore plan?"
"Leave our friend to me," she replied. "I can make him see reason, but it will take time, and we must be together."
"How much time?"
"Several days probably--he's not easy."
"An' while I'm waitin', Ducane gits the mine," he objected.
"Sudden's his friend--he won't start without him," she urged, and then smiled. "Are you so eager to part with me?" A muffled laugh came from behind the mask. "When we go after the gold yo're comin' along, my beauty. Well, I'm givin' you two days; if you ain't turned the trick by then, it'll be for me to try." With the ominous threat ringing in her ears Lora went back-to the puncher, who had watched the conversation with some impatience. He could not hear what was said but he guessed the woman was pleading for him, and did not like the idea
"We have two days," she said, as she sat down. "Two little days to bewitch you with my poor charms and, like a modern Delilah, betray you to your enemies." She spoke jestingly, but ended on a bitter note. "And the fool believes that I will try."
"I'm obliged to yu, ma'am, but " Sudden began.
"Don't be stupid," she said sharply. "I was merely thinking of myself. With you crippled by torture, what chance have I of escaping from these wretches?" And then her manner changed. "Sorry, Jim, I didn't mean to be snappy," she finished.
"What we gotta think about is hoodwinkin' these smarties an' slidin' outa here," he said.
That day passed and the next, without any opening presenting itself. Always watched, they could not tamper with their bonds in daylight, and at nightfall the woman was conducted back to the shelter. Dusk found them sitting in the old spot, glum, dispirited.
"We must do something," Lora said desperately. "Hank will want his answer to-night. The beast is beginning to think he owns me. Isn't it possible to free ourselves?"
"Tied up like this, undoin' them knots needs a lot o' time an' we ain't got it. If we on'y had a knife."
"A knife?" she whispered. "Heavens, what a fool I am. I always carry one, and they never thought to search me." Her bound hands fumbled at the bosom of her dress and then dropped. "I can't get it, Jim," she said. "You try." She bent towards him, and in the fading light he saw the gleam of a white throat and felt her shiver as his groping fingers touched the soft silken softness of her skin. Then they closed on the haft of a tiny Spanish dagger and drew it from the sheath. A mere three inches of steel sharp-pointed and keen-edged as a razor, it was a toy, but a terrible one. Sudden glanced across the glade. Two men only were squatting by the fire. In a few moments it would be dark. Hank was late.
He stooped and cut loose the girl's bonds, and when she had done the same for him, slipped the weapon into the top of his right-hand boot, where it would be easily accessible. Then he saw one of the men stand up and stretch himself.
"Follow me," he whispered. "Tread as lightly as yu can." Swiftly they melted into the darkness of the pines. Slipping like shadows between the slender trunks of the trees they con trived to reach the other side of the glade. So far their absence did not appear to have been discovered.
"I'm goin' to try for my guns," Sudden whispered. "Wait." Before she could voice a protest, a man going towards the camp almost stepped on them. His cry of alarm died in his throat as a blow like a flung stone took him on the point of the jaw. Sudden caught the falling body and lowered it to the ground. His hands were busy for a moment and when he spoke the girl knew that he was amused.
"Thoughtful o' Hank to bring my guns," he murmured "He was wearin' em, an' my hat an' chaps. Was he the fella that fetched yu here?"
"He might have been," she replied.
"It don't signify. Hank'll be good an' quiet for a spell an' I reckon the rest won't start anythin' till he turns up." They tramped on through seemingly endless aisles of pines and at length reached an open space. The puncher studied the sky and swore softly.
"Not a blame' star to steer by," he said. "We'll have to wait for sunrise to get a direction. Better keep a-movin' though." For another hour they struggled on. Speed was out of the question for there was no trail, and, in the dark, it was impossible to avoid difficulties. Thorny thickets, scrub-covered ridges, steep-sided stony ravines, jumbled together in bewildering confusion were encountered and had to be overcome, and after a time even the cowboy--wiry and tough as rawhide --was beginning to feel the strain. And he knew that his companion must be nearly dead, but he dared not stop; at the best, he reckoned they could only have covered a few miles, and if they had circled ... Daybreak was at hand when the girl finally slumped down on a fallen tree-trunk.
They had been descending a wide, stony slope covered with prickly scrub and trees. Now, from higher up, came the crack of a rifle and a small cloud of smoke showed against the foliage. Lora clutched her companion's arm.
"They ain't shootin' at us yet," he reassured. "That pill went over our heads was just an invite to stay an' be catched. We ain't acceptin'."
"Is it--Hank?" she asked, and when he nodded, added viciously, "You should have killed him."
"I expect yo're right, but I never did like stickin' pigs." He had been examining their surroundings and his quick eye picked out the place he wanted. "C'mon." Unhurriedly he set out for it, the crest of a ridge, the approach to which was too bare to afford cover for attack.
Lora followed, the fear of being retaken spurring her, but soon she was lagging behind, and then--when they were no more than half-way--she dropped. Somewhat to her surprise, the puncher came back.
"I'm sorry, but my limbs won't take me another step," she groaned.
"That's the worst o' them ornamental legs," he sneered.
Like the lash of a whip the brutal jeer fetched her to her feet. With fists clenched and teeth clamped she lurched onwards, blind to everything save that she must keep moving. She did not see the pitying eyes of the man who strode beside her. So they came to the foot of the incline and there she collapsed like a pricked bladder.
Sudden saw that she could do no more. Bending, he lifted her and staggered up the ascent. She was heavier than he had thought, and before long, his already tired muscles were throbbing with the pain of over-exertion. A bullet spat into the ground a few feet away, and, as if the report had awakened her, the girl opened her eyes. When she realized what was happening her head snuggled into his shoulder and her lips parted. Staring straight in front, Sudden plodded doggedly on, and, reaching the top at last, allowed his burden to stand up.