"It's real plate-glass now," Hazel went on.
"And plate-glass sometimes gets broken."
"Yes, I s'pose it does. But you can fix it again—being a millionaire."
"Yes——"
The millionaire broke off. There was a rush of hoofs from behind. The horsemen were close up to them, coming at a hard gallop. Carbhoy turned quickly. So did Hazel. The millionaire's eyes were calmly curious. He imagined the men were just going to pass on. Hazel's eyes were full of a genuine alarm. She had known what to expect. But now that the moment had come she was really terrified. What would Gordon's father do? Had he a revolver? And would he use it? This was the source of her fear.
It was a breathless moment for the girl. It was the crux of all Gordon's plans. She was the center of it. She, and these men who were to execute the lawless work.
She was given no time to speculate. She was given no time but for that dreadful wave of fear which swept over her, and left her pretty face ghastly beneath its tanning. A voice, harsh, commanding, bade her pull up her team, and the order was accompanied by a string of blasphemy and the swift play of the man's gun.
"Hold 'em up, blast you! Hold 'em, or I'll blow the life right out o' you!" came the ruthless order.
At the same time James Carbhoy was confronted with a gun from another direction, and a sharp voice invited him to "push his hands right up to the sky."
Both orders were obeyed instantly, and as Hazel saw her companion's hands thrown up over his head a great reaction of relief set in. She sat quite still and silent. Her reins rested loosely in her lap. She no longer dared to look at her companion. Now that all danger of his resistance was past she feared lest an almost uncontrollable inclination to laugh should betray her.