Marion felt a heavy hand upon her left arm and shoulder.
In a second she wheeled around, her revolver in her hand.
“Stand back!” she said, sternly. “Don’t lay a hand on me, cowards! I’ll shoot you like dogs if you dare touch me or this woman!”
Both men fell back for the space of a second, then together they sprang at her and seized her arms.
Marion snapped the trigger of the pistol in the leader’s face. There was no report; the weapon was broken.
In less than a minute the beautiful, struggling girl was bound and gagged. The last that she remembered was hearing Miss Lindsay cry for mercy.
When she opened her eyes again she was in a closed carriage. There was a handkerchief across her mouth and her wrists were tied together loosely.
Opposite her in the carriage sat Jack Green’s companion. His dark, burning eyes gleamed at her from under a slouch hat and never left her face for a moment.
The air in the carriage was almost stifling, and without thinking of the consequences Marion half rose from her seat and with her manacled hands made a feeble effort to lower the window.
“The window is locked and so are the doors,” said a muffled voice. “You are a prisoner, Miss Marlowe, so you may as well submit gracefully.”