Once on suburban roads, Wrentz, either fearful of pursuit or drunk with success, began speeding.
Along the railroad tracks the noise of their speed drew a tumult of wild sounds from a string of gaily painted cars on the siding. The snarls and howls of beasts were mingled with the angry cries of men who seemed to be at work on the other side of the cars.
To Pauline the noises came faintly, but with a horrid and unearthly note. She, who had been the victim of so many cruet and fantastic plots, knew not what new danger the roaring of the beasts threatened.
In a moment, though, her mind was set at rest on this point. For Rocco, the young bandit, turning to the man next him, asked: "What does it mean? What are they doing?"
"It is a circus train," answered the man. "They are loading the beasts into the cars."
Pauline felt the machine swerve sharply and evidently take to a by-road, for she could hear the swish of leaves on overhanging branches as they brushed through.
"This place will do," she heard Wrentz say. "Now, be quick about it."
"It has come," breathed Pauline to herself. "This is the place where
I am to die."
Through her mind, in piteous pageant, flashed thoughts of home, of Harry, of even Raymond Owen. There was a great loneliness in the hour of doom. But it would be over quickly. She shut her eyes tight and clenched her tied hands as the trunk was taken from the machine and placed upon the ground.
"Open it," commanded Wrentz. "I don't want her to die in there."