Vroon struck him on the mouth. "Be silent, you scum!"
"It is in the chest Jones, the butler, threw into the sound," she said bravely. And so it might be for all she knew.
Vroon laughed. "We know about where that is."
"Florence, say nothing on my account. They are not the kind of men who keep their word."
"Eh?" snarled Vroon. "We'll see about that." He glanced at his watch. "In half an hour the freight comes along. It may become stalled at the wreck. But it will serve."
Norton knew very well that if need said must they would not hesitate to execute a melodramatic plan of this character. It was the way of the Slav; they had to make crime abnormal in order to enjoy it. They could very well have knocked him on the head then and there and have done with him. But the time used in conveying him to the railroad might prove his salvation. Nearly four hours had passed since the sending of the telegram to Jones.
They bound Florence and left her seated in the chair. As soon as they were gone she rolled to the floor. She was able to right herself to her knees, and after a torturous five minutes reached the fireplace. She burnt her hands and wrists, but the blaze was the only knife obtainable. She was free.
THEY BOUND FLORENCE AND LEFT HER SEATED IN THE CHAIR