It was too late for Cliff to elude him. But desperation ruled Cliff’s mind. He reached for his automatic, dropping to the floor to avoid Ernie’s fire.
Shires did the unexpected. With one quick step forward, he swung a short blow. The steel of his revolver struck Cliff behind the ear, as Cliff’s hand was reaching to the cot. Cliff sprawled unconscious.
Arline leaped toward him, with a little cry of anguish. Shires caught the girl with one arm and laughed. Holding Arline helpless, he pocketed his own revolver and did the same with Cliff’s. He flung the girl upon the cot, where she lay sobbing.
He leaned over Cliff’s body. He half lifted the prostrate form, and pushed it into the corner, behind the chair. He felt through Cliff’s pockets and found no weapons.
“You’re out for a while,” sneered Ernie. “Maybe for a long while. We’ll let you lay till Durgan gets here. See what he has to say.”
He turned to the cot. Arline was crouching against the wall. Ernie laughed as he approached.
“So that’s the guy you fell for, eh?” he said. “I heard you call his name. Cliff Marsland, eh? Well, I’ve got things to settle with him — and the best way to begin is with his moll! Come here!”
HE seized Arline and pulled her toward him. The girl struggled desperately. Ernie Shires handled her with brutal roughness. He tried to kiss her, despite her protests. She dealt him a hard slap across the mouth, and Shires laughed cruelly.
He was clutching the girl with his arms, trying to crush her. Arline managed to break away. She staggered to the wall and stood there, gasping, her eyes wide with terror. Her hand clutched her arm, where the sleeve had been torn away, and the scratches of Ernie’s fingernails had left red streaks.
Ernie was leering as he approached, ready to pounce upon the girl the moment that she tried to escape.