Helen tried to move.
She found on doing so that her feet and hands were secured by stout cords to the four corners of the bedstead.
"Now, my gal," said her tormentor, "how is it agoin' to be? Are you goin' for to be good an' docile, or are agoin' to give me a heap of trouble? There," jabbing the pin into Helen, "how do you like that? That's what I allers does when my patients is bad."
Poor Helen!
A terrible fate opened before her.
[CHAPTER XII.]
SHADOW.
A keen pair of eyes scanned the faces of a party of men, all of them criminals of the worst class.
Those eyes belonged to Shadow.