There was a great fear in
her heart, but she fought it down and faced Taggart with some semblance
of dignity and composure.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded; "what do you want?"
Taggart's face wore an evil smile. Before answering her he fastened
the door behind him, left it and went to the sitting-room door, peered
quickly into the room and swung the door shut, barring it. Betty stood
beside the table, watching him with a sort of fascination, a little
color now in her face, though she lacked the power to speak or to
interfere with Taggart's movements.
When he had barred the sitting-room door he came and stood beside the
table, and there was a repulsive, insulting leer on his face as he
looked down at her.
"Do you know what I came here for?" he said.
"No," she answered.
He reached out suddenly and grasped her hands, pulling her roughly over
to him. She gave a startled cry and then stood silent before him,
slender and white, a subdued little figure dwarfed by his huge bulk,
seemingly helpless.
"I'll tell you," he said, the strange hoarseness of deep passion in his
voice. "Me an' my dad are leavin' the country tonight. We sold the
Arrow today, an' by this time tomorrow we'll be among the missin' in
this section of the country. But there's some things to be done before
we pull our freight.
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