“Uh-huh.”
McLeese went past her and entered the kitchen, where she heard him working around. Chuck Bell came over near the table and sat down in a chair. He began rolling a smoke. June was entirely disarmed. She took her hand away from the gun and picked up a magazine.
As quick as a flash Bell jerked sidewise out of his chair and secured the gun. He leered at June as he shoved the gun inside the waist-band of his overalls.
“All set, Mac,” he called. McLeese came from the kitchen, glanced quickly toward the table and laughed throatily.
“That’s better than knockin’ her on the head,” he said. “By golly, she had me worried for a minute. I don’t sabe it yet, but that don’t worry me much. Get a rope, Bell.”
Bell walked back to the front door and went out, while McLeese leaned against the table and leered at June.
“Smart little lady, eh? Made a awful hit with Old Man Reber, didn’t yuh? Came out here to catch Jack Silver!”
McLeese laughed scornfully. Bell came in with the rope and gave it to McLeese, who lost no time in tying June’s hands and feet securely.
“Find me a handkerchief or a rag,” he said. “We’d better gag her. Yuh never can tell who might come along. The road is guarded and all that, but we’ll jist play safe.”
Bell produced a dirty bandanna handkerchief.