Dora stood white and speechless with terror until John Pierson turned to her, saying:
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you. You are too young and beautiful to die just yet.”
Dopey returned alone and whispered to Pierson:
“I didn’t mean to do it, but de crack on de nut croaked de kid!”
“I’m glad of it. His lips are sealed forever.”
Dopey went to Dora and, with an evil look on his opium-defaced visage, said hoarsely:
“Now den, my pretty bird, it’s your turn. You’ll never live to tell of dis!”
“Let her alone!” said John, angrily. “I’m not going to harm her. We’ve got to get away from New York as quick as the devil will let us—and I’m going to take her with me.”
With a gasp of horror and a futile effort to call her father and Bennie, Dora fainted and would have fallen, had not John caught her.
“Come on; help me get her away. Some one may come,” whispered Pierson to Dopey.