"Since you found a gray mask so becoming, Garth," he snarled, "it's only fair to give you honest cause to wear one. But you'll go poor Simmons one better. Your mask won't need any eye holes."
Nora cried out again.
"You couldn't do it," Garth muttered.
Beneath his rage lurked a fear of which he had never dreamed himself capable. To face death would have been so much simpler.
"What's in that bottle, Slim?"
"A black cap for you, damn you! Pure vitriol!"
He bent closer.
"Squirm! Those ropes and your own handcuffs will hold you. You'll beg me for a bullet before I'm through."
George twisted the girl so she had to watch.
"Pipe your handsome beau, Nora! You'll think I'm more your style in about ten seconds."