In the darkness he found her with his hands. She did not move when he touched her, and his fingers ran to her face. It was cold as marble to the touch, and a great horror filled his soul.
"Merciful God!" he groaned, starting back a little. "They have killed her. The devils!"
The shock was so great that he remained quite still on his knees for a few moments.
He was aroused by the sound of heavy feet upon the stairs.
Frank sprang up and dashed across the room to the door.
The door leading into the dance-room had been left wide open below. He saw that a number of men had entered the back room, and already two or three were on the stairs. Handsome Charley was at their head.
Frank was trapped!
At once he realized that Cimarron Bill was, beyond a doubt, lying in a pool of his own blood in the dance-room.[Pg 310] At last the most desperate and dangerous man-killer of the Southwest had met his master.
Merry had little time, however, to think of anything like this. His own life was in the utmost peril. He drew his revolver, and, with the utmost coolness, put a bullet through Handsome Charley's right shoulder.
With a cry, the man fell back into the arms of the one directly behind him, and that fellow was upset, so that all were swept in a great crash to the foot of the stairs.