In an instant of time, as it were, the fair occupant of the cavern had become known to the Thugs of Cut-throat.
The fire leaping ceilingward revealed her graceful figure, her determined white face, and the deadly weapon in her hands.
Deadly Dan Darrell, with a cry of amazement on his lips, started from the sight, while Tom Terror, having suddenly relinquished his attempted crawl to the bed, gazed at her in silence.
She showed no signs of life, save in the sparkling of her beautiful eyes which drew much of Rosebud Dan’s attention.
“By Jove, she’s a beauty,” he ejaculated. “What a queen she’d make for me when I get my fingers on the pile. The boy and she are carrying on business together; but I’m going to break up that partnership.”
“I’ll make tarms, pard,” said Tom, flashing the glare of his wolfish eyes upon the speaker.
“You speak of terms,” she said. “These are mine. Stand aside and let me pass.”
“They’re easy,” was the answer. “We don’t make war on women, an’ I guess you’ll never set the world afire if we do let you go.”
She could not avoid the handsome, eager eyes of Deadly Dan. She had seen him for the first time; but something proclaimed his identity.
“So you accede to my terms?” she said. “I am to pass out?”