Suddenly she came running down. This was what I had prayed she might do. She reached the switch in the lower hall and light flared out. Instantly I sprang up the outside of the stairway, vaulted over the banisters and stood half way up the stairs, cutting her off, I hoped, from additional ammunition.
She stood at the foot of the stairs gun in hand, glaring up at me. I saw a large, handsome woman with a rope of coarse blonde hair as thick as my wrist hanging down her back and eyes like lambent blue flames. By her snarl I saw that I had the advantage for the moment, but her eyes never quailed. To give her her due she was as bold as a lion. I know of few other women of her age who would look handsome under the circumstances. She was wearing a pink negligee robe over her nightdress. Her feet were bare, they were pretty feet, too. The little dog sheltered himself behind her skirts barking madly. I saw the woman glance down the hall. No doubt she was wondering why the noise didn't bring the negro.
"What do you want?" she demanded in a high and mighty tone.
"Never mind what I want," I returned. "Do what I tell you."
"If you let me go to my room I'll give you what money I have," she said.
"And load up again," I said smiling.
"You can watch me. I have two hundred dollars in the house. It's all you get, anyway."
"That's not what I came for."
By that she knew me. She bared her fine white teeth and raised her gun.
"It's empty," I said laughing. "I counted the shots."