I set my teeth.
Through them I hissed:
"Stanton, you cannot escape me! You know me well in private life, and know that I am a determined man—a man of my word. Now, then, I place the muzzle of my revolver to your head, and by all that is holy I swear to shoot you rather than let you escape."
Stanton gasped.
A hollow moan followed, and he became paler than a corpse.
He knew me for a man of my word, and when I had thus spoken he was positive that any attempt at rescue would cause me to keep my word good.
Suddenly he brightened.
His tone was hopeful.
"How can I help it now?" he said; "I am helpless now, either one way or the other."
There was a ring of something like triumph in his tone.