Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/33

 "Supposing I don't care to?" he ventured.

The girl confronted him with a show of anger.

"Look here, Mister Pretty-man, you've put yourself in Dutch an' you're goin' to do what I say! D' you get me? Poke him into that chair, Tony, and poke him quick!"

Kestner sat down with a sigh. The sleepy and half-amused smile was still on his face. He was still watching for his chance.

The smile disappeared, however, before the unlooked for and lightning-like movement of Morello. That worthy suddenly garroted his captive's head against the fauteuil back while the girl promptly and securely tied his wrists to the chair-arms. His ankles were also made fast in the same way, and all were for the second time wrapped and reinforced with many yards of the heavy crimson cord. Then his neck was released and he could breathe quite freely again. There was now something more than a look of concern on the face of that sleepy-eyed captive. Deep down in his heart was a vast rage at the indignities to which his body had been subjected. And when the time came, he inwardly vowed, some one would pay for those outrages. He was still straining uselessly at the cords holding him when he heard a quick cry from the girl.

"Thank Gawd, here's the Governor!" she said over her shoulder, as she helped Morello with the final knots.