She drew closer slowly, almost reluctantly, and stood before him. His grave, starving eyes looked long into hers.
“My—my dear!” he said, huskily, and kneeling upon the chair with his sound leg—in order to release his arms for more essential purposes, he held them out to her....
“Your arms are strong,” she said presently. “I had no idea.... You are very strong.”
“I—exercise with a rowing machine,” he said.... And then: “Now we must think.... I didn’t much care—before. Now I have something to live for.”
His words brought Carmel back to the realities, to the prison room in which they were locked, and to the men below stairs who had made them prisoners for their sinister purposes.
“I have found Sheriff Churchill,” she said.
“His body?”
She nodded. “And this house is full of contraband liquor. Five big trucks—loaded....”
“All of which is useless information to us here.”
“What—do you think they will do with us?”