The door was locked and the key gone. She placed her lips to the keyhole and called softly:
“Falcon, are you in there?”
“Yes,” came the answer.
“Listen! Listen!” she cried. “You must stay there for the present. The key’s gone, and I’ll have to break in the door. But I must get everything ready first, or the noise will disturb Mrs. Ehrhart. Are—are you tied?”
“Yes, hand and foot.”
“You’re not—not suffering?”
“Not at all.”
“Then be patient. I’ll let you out in a little while.”
The girl left the pantry door and began working desperately now. She collected all the edibles she could lay hands on and a few utensils, then hurried to her bedroom and slipped into chaps and shirt and boots. She strapped on her Colt, and also found a .25-.35-caliber rifle in a saddle scabbard. Jerking two blankets from her bed, she hastened with the collection back to the kitchen.
She grasped up all the articles then, and hurried out into the night.