"Much obliged, but then I should be afraid," she replied cuttingly. "What am Ito tell the cowboy?"
"That to avoid trouble, Miss Ducane is prepared to join forces and work the mine on a shares basis, she and her uncle, of course, to have the larger interests. The details can be agreed upon."
"Where do we come in?" she asked curiously.
"Mary will not be ungrateful," Lesurge explained, "and the old man will take what is given him; you need not discuss that."
"You mean to play fair?"
"Certainly, and you must convince him of that; you should be able to."
"Having under your expert tuition, become such an accom- plished liar," she added acrimoniously. "Well, I'll go, but I wish to heaven we'd never heard of Ducane and his damned mine." A malevolent look followed her as she stepped through the gathering shadows towards the creek. Could he trust her? He smiled wryly. Paul Lesurge trusted no one. He spoke to the men and four of them stole after the messenger.
Though she walked listlessly so long as she was in sight, the moment she reached the dusky vagueness of the trees her step quickened. Little did the man who had sent her guess how eager she was to do his errand. Lora Lesurge was in deadly fear. A creature of cities and crowded places, she could not bear the threatening solitude. Moreover, she was defenceless; her woman's weapon of beauty became, in the company she was in, another danger. And, for the first time in her life, she was afraid of Paul.
raul Lesurge had sent her. His silence told that he was about to refuse and she made a last desperate bid. Clutching him wildly, she cried:
"Jim, you must take me. I--" Out of the murky dimness, creeping forms closed silently in on them, and Sudden, striving to rid himself of the woman, found his arms gripped in a ruder grasp. With a violent gesture he tore his right hand free, thrust Lora away, and rammed his fists into an indistinct patch which he took to be a face. The thud of the blow was followed by a grunt as the man dropped. Swiftly stooping, the cowboy caught the fellow by collar and belt, swung the senseless form up, and with a mighty effort, hurled it at three charging shadows. Without waiting to see the effect of this unusual missile, he ran for the cliff opening. His story was received with varying expressions of anger and disgust.
They fell to discussing it, but Sudden was silent. A woman had fooled him, drawn him into a trap, and held him while he was attacked. He told himself that she was nothing to him, that he had always distrusted her, and yet the memory of her cry as he had retreated remained: "Jim, I didn't know--I swear--" The voice was cut off as though a hand had been clapped over the speaker's lips.
Meanwhile the subject of his thoughts was being escorted back to the camp. When Hank and Lem had been knocked flat by the smallish but decidedly bony body of Bandy, the fourth man, Fagan, had gripped the woman's arm.
"Tryin' to get away an' double-cross us, huh?" he gibed. "I reckon Paul'Il wanta see you."
"Take your filthy paws off, and don't be more of a fool than Nature made you," she said fiercely. "Paul himself sent me."
"Yeah, an' he sent us to watch you," was the sneering reply.
"Your job was to take Green, and you've failed--as usual," she retorted. "Better get your excuses for that ready." The others came up, Rodd still half-dazed from the rough treatment he had received, and they returned to the camp. Lora went straight to her brother. Fury at the thought that she had been used as a bait, for the moment, dispelled her fear.
"Since when have your hirelings had permission to treat me like a common drab?" she asked indignantly.
Lesurge looked at the men. "Where's Green?" he barked. "He got away," Fagan muttered.
"Yes, in spite of the fact that I was holding him when theyattacked," Lora taunted. "Four of them to one and--he got away." With an evil glare at her, Fagan drew his chief aside. She could not hear what was being said, but knew that she would need all her resource. Paul's expression, when he came back, told her nothing.
"The cowboy refused my offer?"
"Of course, after what one of these curs had done," she answered heatedly. "Had I known of that I would not have gone."
"You told him you were afraid and begged for his protection," the cold voice continued. "Don't trouble to lie; Fagan heard all." The woman's brain was racing. "I had to think of something to keep him," she said. "I guessed your plan, and I didn't know the men had arrived."
"And you were so fearful he might escape that you put your arms about him?" Paul persisted. Lora did not reply; she had failed. "Am I to believe that you really desired to trap your lover?" The accusation stirred her. "He is not that," she denied. "If he were, you would not dare to insult me." Lesurge lost his mask of immobility; his face became fiendish. "Would I not?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "You don't know me--but you shall." He looked at the men. "You can all go, except Hank." He waited until they had slouched reluctantly away, and then turned to Lora.
"I warned you once," he said. "You are not only of no use but a danger to me; I am going to get rid of you." He read the quick dread in her staring eyes. "Oh, not that way." His laugh was vile. "Hank here, finds you attractive, I fancy." It took the rascal a moment to comprehend, and then, with a gloating leer, he said eagerly, "Shore, she won't have forgot them days in the hills."
"I make you a present of her," Paul proceeded calmly.
This outrageous act almost petrified the person it most concerned. Torn between anger and stark fear, she could but gasp, "You are mad."
"As you told Green," he reminded. "No, I was that when I trusted you; now I am sane again."
"You dare not do it," she muttered hoarsely.
"Who is to prevent me?" he asked. "Here, I am--king." Mary Ducane, who, with Snowy, had been a silent spectator of this strange scene, stepped forward.
"Paul, you must not do this terrible thing--she is your own blood," she pleaded.
"That is not the case," Lesurge said deliberately.
Mary gazed from one to the other, almost doubting her ears. Lora drew herself up defiantly.
"I am no sister of his," she cried, her tone vibrant with contempt. "I am only--his wife."
"You are not even that," he retorted. "True, there was a ceremony, but the man who performed it had no right to do so." The icy, dispassionate statement compelled credence. "You --devil," she raged. "I will have your life for that." Lesurge's face might have been carved in stone, a revengeful, malignant mask. He motioned to Hank.
"Take her away. She will need discipline; I have been too indulgent." The brute's grin was bestial. "I can tame 'em," he said. "Had an Injun squaw once " He saw from Paul's expression that this was not the time for reminiscences, and stepped towards Lora. "Come along, beauty; you an' me is goin' to git better acquainted." She had been standing like a statue, eyes fixed on the man who had condemned her, hands clasped to her breast as though to still the beating of her heart. Hank laid an arm about her and like a tiger-cat she twisted in his grasp and struck at him. The fellow's knees sagged, his eyes rolled horribly, and with a gurgling gasp he went down. Bending, the woman watched as life went in a last convulsive contortion, and in a shrill, unnatural voice, cried:
"The dog is dead; it should have been his master, but your turn will come, Paul." With a wild laugh, she turned and ran, disappearing into the darkness before the paralysed onlookers could guess her intention. Fagan and the others, who had hurried over when they heard Hank's death-cry, stood grouped round the body. One of them turned it over, disclosing the dagger, buried to the haft at the base of the throat. Lesurge frowned when he saw it.
"I forgot about that damned knife she carried," he said. "She shore knowed where to put it," Fagan observed critically. "What are we to do with the body?"