A heavy voice, speaking suddenly from the doorway, shook Miss Farrar’s jangled nerves into fresh panic.
“She won’t scream,” said the voice.
In the door Miss Farrar saw the bulky form of the sergeant, blocking her escape.
Without shifting his eyes from Miss Farrar, the man with the gun cursed breathlessly at the other. “Why didn’t you keep her away?” he panted.
“An automobile stopped in front of the gate,” explained the sergeant. “Have you got them?” he demanded.
“No!” returned the other. “Nothing! She won’t tell where they are.”
The older man laughed. “Oh, yes, she’ll tell,” he whispered. His voice was still low and suave, but it carried with it the weight of a threat, and the threat, although unspoken, filled Miss Farrar with alarm. Her eyes, wide with concern, turned fearfully from one man to the other.
The sergeant stretched his hands toward her, the fingers working and making clutches in the air. The look in his eyes was quite terrifying.
“If you don’t tell,” he said slowly, “I’ll choke it out of you!”
If his intention was to frighten the girl, he succeeded admirably. With her hands clasped to her throat, Miss Farrar sank against the wall. She saw no chance of escape. The way to the door was barred, and should she drop to the garden below, from the window, before she could reach the road the men would overtake her. Even should she reach the road, the house nearest was a half mile distant.