"None o' that," Scar said savagely. "Come quiet an' you'll be treated decent; if you don't, I'll hawg-tie you." The girl gave in; black despair descended upon her. Roden issued an order, they closed round her, and set off along the canyon. The roughness of the trail made speed out of the question, but presently they climbed out of the dismal gorge into the hills. There was a certain fierce grandeun in the peaks and precipices, tree-clad slopes, rocky defiles, and cascading torrents, but Joan--lover of Nature as she was--had no eye for them; fear for the future was all-absorbing.
Her escort took no notice of her, but chatted in low tones among themselves. Once she caught a fragment of the conversation.
"The Chief'll have a couple of 'em now," one said. "Yeah, safety in numbers," chuckled another.
"That rule don't work with women. No, sir," Scar contributed. At which they all laughed.
They entered Hell City by the western gate, and despite her danger, the girl could not but be interested in the place which the country-side held in awe. In the afternoon sunlight, it appeared innocent enough. At first, seeing so few buildings, she wondered where the inhabitants lived, and then she noticed the tunnelled openings in the rock walls, and understood. The people who stopped and stared as she passed seemed no different from those of any frontier settlement. But a shock awaited her at the whipping-post. Hanging slackly from it by his bound wrists was an oldish man, his bared back raw and bloody, and round him, a dozen or more loungers. Scar asked a question.
"01' Benjy," he told the others. "So that was why he warn't on the gate. Well, here we are."
He got down and turned to help the girl, but she had already dismounted, and obeying his gesture, proceeded along the passage. Silver opened the door, and his brutelike appearance made her recoil. Scar chuckled.
"Go ahead," he said. "He won't bite yer."
She stepped into the room and again paused, this time in astonishment at the bizarre yet costly furnishings. But from these her gaze went almost at once to the owner, devouring her triumphantly through the slits in his mask. He made a too elaborate bow and pushed forward a chair.
"Good of you to come, Joan," he greeted, and the irony of the remark stung her.
"I had no choice," she replied hotly. "That--beastthreatened to hog-tie me."
"She tried to break away," the "beast" said sullenly.
"My fault," Satan explained. "I was so eager to see you that I promised to hang the poor fellow if he failed." He smiled at Roden. "It appears we had a difference last night, and that you wounded me and I killed you."
Scar looked at him dubiously. "I don't get you," he said. "I'm feelin' middlin' healthy for a dead man. Who put it around?"
"Sudden, and on the plea that he was going to Red Rock for a doctor, the fool at the gate let him pass, against my express orders."
"So--that was it?"
"Yes. I don't--think--he'll do it--again," Satan said slowly. He tossed over some bills. "Your men will be thirsty."
Having thus dismissed the man, he turned to the girl. "Sorry I couldn't meet you myself, Joan, but a little matter prevented me."
"The thrashing of that unhappy wretch outside?" she asked.
"Oh, that," he replied carelessly. "Just a question of discipline. They are a rough lot, these people of mine, and need an object lesson from time to time."
"You mentioned `Sudden.' Was that the cowboy who came to the Double K?"
"Yes, and you are well quit of him; an arrant rascal." Perilous as her position was, she could not keep back the retort: "He should have suited you."
She saw his mouth harden, and then he laughed. "You still have your tongue. Well, a woman without brains, however pretty, is no more than a doll."
She was silent, considering him. Though she knew the truth, the impersonation was so complete that, but for having recently seen the real Simon Pure, she might still have doubted; a warm-blooded youth, harshly treated--as he believed--by the world, might well have become such a man as this. He fell to pacing up and down, hands behind his back, an old habit of Jeff's, she remembered, when he wished to talk.
"Fine to see you here, Joan; I have much to say."
"Then please say it and let me go home," she replied. "I have been absent too long already."
"You are not going. Where I am will be `home' for you from now on," he told her. "You are to be my wife, or my woman, which you will, but--one or the other."
She sprang to her feet. "Are you mad?" she cried.
"Yes, about you," he smiled. "Once, I let you go; this time, I hold you until eternity."
The note of finality in his voice left no room for doubt; the fate she had feared from the moment of her capture had become a hideous reality. Sick with horror, she sank back in her seat and strove to rally her scattered senses. She must fight this monster, and above all, never let him suspect that she knew his secret. She too had a part to play.
"I never thought you would use me so, Jeff," she said quietly. "If you really care for me, you will let me return to the ranch; the Colonel will be anxious."
His astonishment was real. "The Colonel? Why, he's dead."
"No," she corrected. "There was an accident, and he was badly hurt, but he still lives, and needs all the care and attention I can give him. I beg you to let me go."
"No, I need you, too."
"The shock of my disappearance may prove fatal to--your father," she pleaded.
"A convincing reason for keeping you," he replied brutally.
He called Silver and gave him an order which Joan could not hear. In a while, the dwarf ushered in Miss Dalroy. The bandit spoke brusquely.
"Belle, this is Miss Keith; she will share your room for a time. I want you to take good care of her."
The adventuress had expected to find a contemptuous adversary, but she found only a distraught and despairing girl. The sight aroused no compassion in her selfish soul; willing or unwilling, Joan Keith was a formidable rival.
"I understand, Jeff; she will be safe with me," she said. "Come, Miss Keith."
Joan did not move, and Satan's lips tightened. Stepping to her side, he said savagely, "Go, before I repent of my weakness. Remember, I am master here."
With a heart heavy as lead, she obeyed, conscious that she was completely in his power. It was but a few steps, for Belle's abode was next the Chief's, a similar cave, though not so large or luxuriously fitted. But it was comfortable.
"Well, here we are," Belle said, "and let me tell you, Hell City has worse prisons." She looked curiously at her guest, sitting limply, staring with arid eyes at the carpeted floor. "You were fond of Jeff one time, weren't you? I expect he's altered."
The girl was on her guard. "Yes, into a beast," she replied.
"All men have a lot of beast in them," Belle shrugged. "Civilization smothers and keeps it under, but out here in the wilds it comes to the surface."
Joan changed the subject. "Is there no way out of this awful place?"
"Three," was the cynical reply. "Jump through the hole behind that curtain and you'll land on the rocks eighty feet below. The other two are the gates of the town: the cowboy, Sudden, went that way last night, and the man who let him pass was beaten to death this afternoon. You can reckon your chances."
"What had Sudden done?"
"I don't know, but if he hadn't escaped--well, judge for yourself," Belle said, and gave an account of the gunman's arrest and subsequent torture. The listener's ashen face rather amused her; she had purposely painted the bandit leader as black as possible.
"Diabolical !"
"Oh, Jeff's all that; sometimes I think he really is--possessed. I was glad Sudden got away--he saved my life, and yet, I fear him."
"I would say he is not the type to harm a woman."