Page:Arthur Stringer - The Shadow.djvu/243

 waiting for the guides and mules that Blake addressed himself to the prisoner.

"Connie," he said, "I 'm taking you back. It does n't make much difference whether I take you back dead or alive. But I 'm going to take you back."

The other man said nothing, but his slight head-movement was one of comprehension.

"So I just wanted to say there 's no sidestepping, no four-flushing, at this end of the trip!"

"I understand," was Binhart's listless response.

"I 'm glad you do," Blake went on in his dully monotonous voice. "Because I got where I can't stand any more breaks."

"All right, Jim," answered Binhart. They sat staring at each other. It was not hate that existed between them. It was something more dormant, more innate. It was something that had grown ineradicable; as fixed as the relationship between the hound and the hare. Each wore an air of careless listlessness, yet