, swinging around until her feet were on
the floor, intending to leap to the door, open it, and escape. A sound
arrested her, a chuckle, grim and sinister, in a man's voice. She
flashed swiftly around, to see Slade sitting in a chair near the foot of
the bed. He was bending forward, his elbows on his knees, his knuckles
supporting his chin, watching her with a wide, amused grin.

For a long, breathless space she looked at him; noting the evil light in
his eyes and the cruel, bestial curve of his lips. She saw how his gaze
quickened as he watched her; how he had drawn one foot under
him--obviously to be used as leverage for a rapid leap should she try to
reach the door.

"It ain't no use, ma'am," he said; "you're here, an' you're goin' to
stay for a while." He got up and walked to the door, placing his back
against it and grinning widely as he looked down at her, as she yielded
to a long shudder of dread.

During the silence that followed Slade's words Ruth could hear faint
sounds from below--the clinking of glasses, the scuffling of feet, a low
murmur of voices. She knew, then, that they had brought her to a room
above a saloon--the Wolf, she supposed, for that was where Warden said
he intended to bring her.

She watched Slade fearfully, divining that he meant to attack her. She
could see that determination in his eyes and in his manner. He was still
grinning, but now the grin had become set, satyric, hideous. It was a
mere smirk. No mirth was behind it--nothing but passion, intense,
frightful.

She glanced swiftly around, saw a window beyond the foot of the bed with
a ragged shade hanging over it. She knew the Wolf was only two stories
in height, and she felt that if she threw herself out of the window she
would suffer injury. But she meant to do it. She got her feet set firmly
on the floor, and was about to run toward the window, when Slade leaped
at her, seeing the reckless design in her eyes.

She had been moving when Slade leaped, and she evaded the arm he
extended and slipped away from him. She heard Slade curse. She was
almost at the window when he rushed at her again; and to keep him from
grasping her she dodged, bringing up against the farther wall, while
Slade, losing his balance, plunged against the window, crashing against
the glass and sending a thousand broken fragments tinkling on the floor
of the room and into the darkness outside.

She was alert to the advantage that had suddenly come to her, an