In the hard, cruel expression of Mason's eyes he read his doom, and he was so overcome with absolute misery of mind and body that he leaned against the rock and cried like a child. All hope had left him.
He was broken down in body and spirit.
A cold, cynical smile hovered over Mason's face.
He was not moved by the signs of weakness his prisoner showed. On the contrary, he gloated over it.
This was the surest indication to him that Dalton was upon the verge of collapse, and intended to give in.
He waited for his victim to get over the first paroxysm of grief, and watched him as closely as a cat watches a mouse.
Finally he asked in sharp, metallic tones:
"Well, which shall it be—obey me, and sign a check, or remain chained here like a wild beast, and perish of starvation?"
For a moment there was a deep silence.
Slowly the prisoner removed his trembling hands from his wan, pinched face, and said in reproachful tones: