"Wait!" she pleaded desperately. "I was going to Millington. But
I'd turn back and show you the way to Partridgeville to help you."
"What's it to you?" He had drawn the gun from his belt and now was fingering it nervously.
"You're lost up here in the mountains, aren't you?" she said. "I couldn't let you stay lost if it was possible for me to direct you on your way."
"You said you was lost yourself."
"I was lost—until I stumbled into this clearing. That gave me my location."
"Smart, ain't you? Damn' smart, but not too smart for me, you woman!" The flare flamed up again in his crooked eyes. "You know who I be, all right. You know what I'm aimin' to do. And you're stallin' for time till you can put one over. But you can't—see? I'll have this business done with. I'll end this business!"
She felt herself sinking to her knees. He advanced and gripped her left wrist. The crunch of his iron fingers sent an arrow of pain through her arm. It bore her down.
"For God's sake—don't!" she whispered hoarsely, overwhelmed with horror. For the cold, sharp nose of the revolver suddenly punched her neck.
"I ain't leavin' no traces behind. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. Never mind if I do——"
"Look!" she cried wildly. "Look, look, look!" And with her free hand she pointed behind him.