ps were parted. She was breathing quickly, but she did not smile; she
made no response to his greeting, gave no sign even of recognition.
What happened after that was so sudden and amazing that his heart
stopped dead still. Without warning she stepped back from the cell and
began to scream and then drew away from him, still facing him and still
screaming, as if something had terrified her.
Kent heard the crash of a chair in the detachment office, excited
voices, and the running of feet. Marette Radisson had withdrawn to the
far corner of the alcove, and as Carter and Pelly ran toward her, she
stood, a picture of horror, pointing at Kent's cell. The two constables
rushed past her. Close behind them followed the special officer
detailed to take Kent to Edmonton.
Kent had not moved. He was like one petrified. Close up against the
bars came the faces of Pelly, Carter, and the special constable, filled
with the expressions of men who had expected to look in upon tragedy.
And then, behind their backs, Kent saw the other thing happen. Swift as
a flash Marette Radisson's hand went in and out of her raincoat, and at
the backs of the three men she was leveling a revolver! Not only did
Kent see that swift change, but the still swifter change that came into
her face. Her eyes shot to his just once, and they were filled with a
laughing, exultant fire. With one mighty throb Kent's heart seemed to
leap out through the bars of his prison, and at the look in his face
and eyes Carter swung suddenly around.
"Please don't make any disturbance, gentlemen," said Marette Radisson.
"The first man that makes a suspicious move, I shall kill!"
Her voice was calm and thrilling. It had a deadly ring in it. The
revolver in her hand was held steadily. It was a slim-barreled, black
thing. The very color of it was menacing. And behind it were the girl's
eyes, pools of flame. The three men were facing them now, shocked to
speechlessness. Automatically they seemed to obey her command to throw
up their hands. Then she leveled her grim little gun straight at
Pelly's heart.
"You have the key," she said. "Unlock the cell!" Felly fumbled and
produced the key. She watched him closely. Then suddenly the special
constable dropped his arms with a coarse laugh. "A pretty trick," he
said, "but the bluff won't work!"
"Oh, but it will!" came the reply.
The little black gun was shifted to him, even as the constable's
fingers touched his revolver holster
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