“To the gate fer yer answer, ye cowardly houn’. Move quick, er I’ll drap ye in yer tracks, ye murderin’ wolf. Do as I say!”
She moved another step toward him. Her voice rose shrill:
“Drap thet rifle-gun!”
The weapon slipped from Hodges’ nerveless fingers, and fell on the turf with a soft thud.
“Put up yer han’s!”
Cowed, the man thrust his long arms to their length above his head. 163
“Now, turn round, an’ march to the gate!”
There was no faltering in the obedience.
The hulking bully knew that he was in mortal peril. For his life’s sake, he dared neither word nor gesture of resistance to the girl’s will. His only hope was that the hidden ally might somehow come to his aid. But the hope was feeble. He knew the other’s craven spirit.
Plutina, too, knew it. As she drove her captive to the gate, she peered, and saw the crouching figure still in the shadows behind the bush. The Colt’s cracked. Even as Hodges shuddered, imagining the tearing of the bullet through his own flesh, there came a shriek of pain from beyond him. The hidden man leaped forth, his right arm dangling clumsily. He scrambled into the cover of the spruces and vanished. The noises of his flight lessened, died.