“That isn’t much assurance,” Nell whispered to Belle. “What a strange place! Surely they can’t mean to keep us here! Ethel will almost die of fright.”
She cast a swift look at her cousin, but the girl seemed more courageous than she had been, probably realizing that nothing could be gained by showing her fear. So, although her underlip trembled pitifully, Ethel suddenly approached their guard.
“Do you think we’re going to submit to this?” she demanded, a high color in her cheeks. “That you—an old woman—can keep us here? Don’t think we’re afraid of you! We could— What’s that?” she broke off suddenly, pointing to the doorway.
Unsuspectingly, the woman turned. The next moment Ethel’s two hands had closed over the gun, and, with a fierce look of determination in her eyes, she struggled fiercely. In a flash the other two leaped to her assistance, and the woman was disarmed. Ethel, the one who had been most frightened, had done what the others dared not do!
“Now,” she panted, trembling so that she could scarcely stand, “the tables are turned! Let us out of here!”
The woman shrugged her shoulders stolidly, and stood to one side.
“Where you go?” she muttered. “Horses gone. They go by themselves where you no find them. You want to walk, all right. Long ways,” and she grinned.
Ethel threw the gun on the table in despair.
“We could never make it,” she stammered, her breath choked in her throat. “It’s too far! This horrible canyon—” she could not finish.
“Where are the horses?” Bell asked, stepping forward.