He stood before her, large, uncouth, malevolent; a very brute of a man, whose sheer brutal strength was enough to overawe and reduce to subjection even a reasonably strong man.
“Now see here! I ain’t goin’ to fool with you! You’re goin’ to do the things I say. I’ve got these emeralds, and I’ve got you. Jes’ as soon as it’s safe, I’m goin’ to make fer the Mexican line. Once across it, I know plenty good hidin’ places. I’ll treat you well, if you’ll let me; if you don’t let me treat ye well, that’s your own fault, not mine. You’re goin’ to live with me from this on as my wife.”
She uttered a scream, and drew back.
He laughed; he knew she could not get away.
“Hurts yer feelin’s, does it? Well, it needn’t. I’ve seen worse-lookin’ men than I am.”
“But never such a villain!”
“Yes; even worse villains. I ain’t sich a bad lot. I’ve taken a likin’ to you. You’re good lookin’, and, of course, you know it. We’ll go together into Mexico, where we’ll hide till it’s safe to git out somewheres else. You’ll live with me as my wife, freely if you will, but you’ll live with me jes’ the same. And I’ll treat you well. These emeralds will be as much yourn as mine—that is, the things they buy will. And they’ll make us independent. I’ve done some things that will make me want to hide away from the law for a while. By the time we can go forth and look the world in the eye—the Mexican world, mind ye!—you’ll not be keerin’ much whether you’re married to me or not; for by that time you’ll think I’m a purty good sort of a feller. I know women. What they need is a good whalin’, whenever they think they know it all and want to be boss of the ranch. The Injuns have the right of it. Whale a squaw and she’s obedient. And I reckon it’s the same with a white woman.”
“Never!” she cried, starting up. “Before I would be your wife—the wife of such a scoundrel—I’d kill myself!”
“Ho, ho!” he said, with a roar of laughter. “A tantrum like that is what I guess I’ll like to see occasionally; it makes you purtier than any picture.”