He folded the document and slipped it into his inner coat pocket. Then he walked towards her. At the look on his face Janet sprang to her feet.
“I’ve changed my mind about the marriage matter, just as you did,” he said. “I agree with you now; there won’t be any marriage. But I’ll have your arms about my neck just the same.”
And he seized her wrist.
“Let me go, let–––” The words ceased on her lips.
Her eyes were riveted on the cabin door; she scarcely felt the man’s loathsome touch on her arm. How had the door come unlatched? And was it only the wind that slowly moved it open?
CHAPTER XVI
WEIR TAKES UP THE HUNT
On leaving the construction camp Steele Weir had whirled away down the river road for San Mateo with a feeling both of satisfaction and of enmity––satisfaction at Martinez’ success in at last having secured the evidence ardently desired, as betokened by his words; enmity at whoever was laying violent hands on the lawyer. Unfortunately when yet half a mile from town his car suffered one of the common misadventures of automobiles:––ping-g-g! sang a tire in a shrill dying whine.