fall into the hands of these men—not if this fellow is a specimen of their class."
"Him!" she looked at him with disgust, curling her lips. "I am not afraid of him, but—but Anse Cowan," she shuddered, staring out into the dark hall. "I—I would rather be dead than have that foul beast touch me."
"Then go, as I say, and hurry. Get a wrap, and your revolver."
She slipped out of the room, and up the stairs, her light steps making no sound on the soft carpet. I bent over Nichols, and as I touched him he stirred, and opened his eyes, staring up into my face. The heavy pot had cut a deep gash in the side of his head, which bled freely, and one of his eyes was puffed nearly closed where I had pummelled him. There was no fight left in the fellow, and he cringed back at sight of me, flinging up his arm in defense, all manhood beaten out of him.
"Don't hit me!" he whined. "I'm no friend of Anse Cowan."
"So you've had enough! Then take orders from me."
I gathered in the picture cord the girl had dropped on the floor, deciding swiftly what it was best to do. If I left the fellow lying bound there those new arrivals would discover him as soon as they got into the
