They rose from the table, and Ross was ushered into an adjoining room which was even more striking in its way than either of the others he had been in that evening.
A brisk fire burned on a wide hearth from above which looked down a magnificent ram’s head. Other trophies of a similar nature adorned the other walls. Interspersed with these were guns, Indian weapons, horsehair lariats—in fact, every accoutrement and trophy of the old-time West. It was a rather remarkable collection, one which under different circumstances would have deeply interested Stanley Ross.
Instantly he knew where those curious antiquated shackles, which had bound the girl, had come from. Here were several similar pairs.
Ross was directed to a chair in front of the fire. Ward took another, facing him, while Beebe sat down on a wide bench on the far side of the fire. Ross waited expectantly.
Ward offered his guest a cigar. Selecting one for himself, he clipped its end very deliberately and lit it with aggravating leisure. Finally he leaned back in his chair and gazed steadily at Ross with his mad eyes. A tiny smile, cynical and cruel, crooked around his thin-lipped mouth.
“I could have had you killed at once, Mr. Waring,” he said deliberately, his voice soft and well-modulated, yet biting, burning, “but I did not choose to do that. Instead, I wanted to bring you here this evening so that you could fully realize just what a serious thing it is, and how useless it is to buck Arthur Ward. And then, too, I wanted my niece to know that I am to be obeyed absolutely.”
“I suppose, Mr. Ward,” asked Ross, “that it would be quite useless to tell you that my name is not Waring at all; that I do not even know any one of that name, or that I have never seen your niece, until last evening?”
“Quite useless, I can assure you, Mr. Waring. I am absolutely certain of your identity. I do not make mistakes.
“Mr. Waring, I never forget an injury. I remember forever, and my one bad trait is the fact that I always have revenge. I would have got you in the end, Waring, anyway, but your fool stunt of following my niece here saved me a lot of trouble. Waring, you should have known that of all people on earth you would have the least chance of marrying my niece.
“Tonight you can have the extreme pleasure of reflecting that you will hardly be dead before Virginia will be the wife of Beebe.”