Book Description

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1916 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XIV Jean turned white with deadly sickening fear, but kept her head courageously up. She whipped up her pony and tried to get away, but the strong hand held the bridle and the little beast could only rear, almost throwing her. Moreover, a gleaming pistol shone into Jean's terrified eyes, and Scathlin in gloating voice spoke low: " Oh, no, my pretty, you don't come any of your little tricks on me. You've stole a paper I give you to give to your brother, an' I mean to have it without any further nonsense. Hand it over!" and he grasped her roughly by the arm. " Help! Mr. Holt! Jasper!" she screamed. Something was stuffed into her mouth and the barrel of the pistol gleamed between her eyes. She could feel the cold steel against her flesh. The earth seemed reeling beneath her, and her senses were going from her. Was there no hope of help from anywhere ? "Now, my pretty, I'll just he'p myself to that paper." Scathlin's voice was malevolent, his eyes gleaming. Like the cold slimy length of a serpent coiling around her soul, the meaning of his words slid about her consciousness. She felt she was sinking out of the world of knowledge into a blackness where she could not protect herself. Then quickly, sharply, a voice brought her back to consciousness. " Drop that pistol! Let go of that lady! Now, march!" It was Holt's voice, low, merciless, commanding; and a revolver was in his hand. Scathlin fell away like water, turning deadly white and cringing. The day of his judgment had come swiftly, and there was no escape. He knew that look in Holt's eye. He had sinned away his last probation. Holt would never trust him again. There was not even time to destroy the letter which he had wanted to keep and give to Harrington as evidence against the...