"I s'pose yer mean that you're goin' ter pay somethin' ter be let go free," observed the villain, after thinking a minute or two. "Well, it will depend on what ther captain says about you gittin' away. I don't hardly think he'll be in favor of lettin' you go, no matter how much yer agree ter pay."
"Oh, I will get away as soon as Young Wild West gets out of here. He won't be long in finding a way to release me."
"Miss, if you're dependin' on anything like that ter happen jest git it off your mind. Young Wild West ain't never goin' ter git out of here alive. I've swore that I'll kill him; an' ther boss of our gang wouldn't think of lettin' him live, nohow. Jest make up your mind that ther boys has got ter die, an' that you're likely ter go ther same way yourself. There's nothin' like resignin' yourself to your fate, yer know."
"Oh, is that so?"
Arietta looked at him with flashing eyes.
Her defiant way struck Snivel as something wonderful, coming from a defenseless girl, as it did.
He did not know that she had a six-shooter in the bosom of her dress, which had been overlooked when she was disarmed.
But Arietta always carried the weapon there.
It was of smaller calibre than the one she always carried at her belt, but it was deadly enough at short range.
The revolver had been given her by Young Wild West on her sixteenth birthday, and several times it had stood her in good stead.