Jennie bravely turned shamed eyes to meet his.
“My girl, I'd do worse than that to get you away from here,” he said, bluntly.
“But—Duane,” she faltered, and again she put out the appealing hand. “Bland will kill you.”
Duane made no reply to this. He was trying to still a rising strange tumult in his breast. The old emotion—the rush of an instinct to kill! He turned cold all over.
“Chess Alloway will kill you if Bland doesn't,” went on Jennie, with her tragic eyes on Duane's.
“Maybe he will,” replied Duane. It was difficult for him to force a smile. But he achieved one.
“Oh, better take me off at once,” she said. “Save me without risking so much—without making love to Mrs. Bland!”
“Surely, if I can. There! I see Euchre coming with a woman.”
“That's her. Oh, she mustn't see me with you.”
“Wait—a moment,” whispered Duane, as Jennie slipped indoors. “We've settled it. Don't forget. I'll find some way to get word to you, perhaps through Euchre. Meanwhile keep up your courage. Remember I'll save you somehow. We'll try strategy first. Whatever you see or hear me do, don't think less of me—”