“What is this?” she heard Gale murmur as she got up to see who was there.
Val pulled open the kitchen door and stumbled back in amazement. Terror gripped her heart and her hands were suddenly cold. She caught at the table for support.
“What do you want--here?” she asked through dry lips.
The man who stood on the threshold advanced slowly into the room and closed the door behind him. All too well she had recognized him. It was Pedro, the Mexican who had sworn revenge. He was here, the Sheriff hadn’t caught him. Slowly she began to back away toward the other room. Perhaps together she and Gale could do something. Possessed solely with an unreasoning terror she turned and fled into the living room where she flung herself on Gale.
“Gale--what’ll we do?” she demanded wildly.
“Keep your chin up,” Gale said into Val’s ear. “It seems we have two visitors.”
“Two?” Val said in surprise. “Who--oh!”
While Pedro entered from the kitchen, Val faced the other man whom Gale had been forced to let in at the front door. It was the bank bandit, the same man who with his partner they had held up in the cabin when the Sheriff arrested the three. The man who had boasted that no jail could hold him. It seemed he had spoken the truth for here he was again, free.
Pedro looked across at his companion who was fingering a horsehair rope and smiled. That smile made the girls’ blood run cold. It was like an evil shadow of what was to come.
Gale felt Val’s hand tighten convulsively on hers. She looked at her friend. Poor Val, she looked scared to death. Gale hoped she didn’t show her own fright as plainly. Somehow, the knowledge that Valerie was frightened and was counting on her, Gale, for help, served to banish some of Gale’s own terror. When one was terror-stricken, one couldn’t think clearly and goodness knew, they were in need of some straight, clear thinking at this moment. How had these men eluded the police so long? How had they managed to keep in the vicinity and remain hidden from their pursuers?