“Yuh stay quiet and yuh won’t get hurted,” the one with the mustache said.
“If yuh don’t, I’ll——” the Mexican began.
She could not resist saying: “You know who will come after me, don’t you? The Wolf!”
It amused her and gave her courage to see how they jumped. The Mexican snarled as, followed by the other, he left the room.
They took the lamp and left her in total darkness. She satisfied herself that the blinds on the windows were securely fastened, then tried to figure out where she was. She puzzled on this until her head nodded and she fell asleep.
She was awakened by the opening of the door. Sun streamed through the cracks in the blinds. A man entered. He was of medium height; his hat was pulled down over his eyes and a handkerchief covered his face.
“I’m not going to beat about the bush. You know where the Wolf holes out and you might as well tell me now as later,” the man said.
There was something about the voice that was vaguely familiar, but the handkerchief muffled the tones so that she could not place it.
“I don’t know where he is,” she faltered.
“Spill it,” repeated the man roughly. “I’m not going to stand here all day. I’m asking you where the Wolf holes out. You have only a little time. If yuh don’t tell I’ll turn you over to the Mexican out there. I’m comin’ back.”