urderer!"
It was out. She had no longer any power of restraint. And as the word
hissed upon the air the man's whole body seemed to suddenly stiffen.
His arms tightened, and she felt her ribs bend under their terrific
pressure.
"Murderer, eh?" she heard him cry, with an oath. "Murderer, eh? Now
you shall kiss me. Kiss me, you wild-cat--kiss me!"
As he spoke one hand was lifted to the back of her head. He pressed it
forward, and she was forced slowly, slowly, fighting every inch of the
way to keep her face out of reach of his lips. His face drew nearer
hers. She felt his hot breath upon her cheeks. She shut her eyes to
keep the sight of his hated, terrifying eyes out, but ever his lips
came nearer.
"What's come over you, you little fool?" he cried fiercely. "What is
it? Now, by hell! whatever it is, you shall--you shall kiss me."
With a sudden exertion of his great strength he crushed her face to
his, and the next instant flung her from him with a fierce cry of pain
and rage.
"You--!" he shouted, as she fell in a heap against the wall.
The blood was streaming from his cheek where her strong teeth had
bitten deep into the flesh. His hand went up to the mauled flesh, and
murder glared out of his eyes as he contemplated her huddled figure
lying motionless where he had flung her. And for one second it looked
as though he intended to complete the work he had begun, and kill her
where she lay, in the same manner in which he had treated the luckless
Conroy.
He stared insanely at her for some moments. Then a change came over
him, and he turned to the door.
"When I come back, my girl! When I come back!" he muttered threateningly.
At the door he paused and looked back. But his look was mercifully
hidden from his victim by unconsciousness.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE GOLD-STAGE
Two days of excitement were quite sufficient to upset the nerves of
Suffering Creek. The only excitement it was used to was the sudden
discovery of an extra good find of gold. The camp understood that. It
was like an inspiration to the creative worker. It stimulated the
energies, it uplifted. Any other sort of excitement had a paralyzing
effect. And thus the excitement of the present Sunday and Monday
entirely upset the rest of the week's work.
Everybody felt that the happenings of those days were merely the
forerunners of something yet to come, of something even more
startling. And the restlessness of uncertainty as to its natur
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