“Mr. Cody,” she called after him, still hearing his retreating footsteps. “Mr. Cody!”
She shook the door, and then pounded on it with her closed fist, and called again; but he did not answer, and he did not turn back. Bewildered now, and badly frightened, she shook the door again and again, and raised her voice in loud calls.
One of the dogs set up a barking outcry, hearing her, but no human being responded.
There was no window in the hut, but near the roof were some small holes that let in light and air. She could not climb up to those holes, and it would not have helped her if she could have done so. In despair, she glanced round the room.
It contained a rude bed, some chairs, and a table and lamp, and nothing else. The floor was of earth, beaten hard.
She sat down to await the return of the man who had locked her in. By and by she heard him coming, and she heard the key turn in the lock when he opened the door.
She was on her feet, facing him, as he entered.
“I must ask you to explain this—this——” She panted and hesitated for words.
He closed the door quickly, and stopped in front of it.
“What is it?” he said.