Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/134

 118 house. His story would make clear our escape, and how we had gone. Every moment of delay was of the utmost value, and if I could successfully hide this preacher where he could not be so easily discovered, the search for him would retard pursuit—his friends would be puzzled by his disappearance, and waste time seeking for him.

"Turn over, Nichols! Oh, yes you can—all that troubles you is a sore head. Come, move quick; that's it. Now put your hands behind your back—both of them. I mean to have you safe this time."

His wrists were big and knotted, and I drew the cord tight enough to make the fellow wince, despite his groans and pretense at severe suffering. There was no reason why I should spare him, nor could I feel any inclination to do so. I jerked him to his feet, using no gentle methods of persuasion, and turned his face to the door, picking up the lamp to give light for the journey.

"Go up the stairs," I commanded sternly, "and keep close to the wall. Oh, you can walk all right, my friend, and I advise you to do as I say—you see this gun?"

The scowl on his face was malignant, and his eyes glowed like coals, but he moved on ahead of me across the hall, and up the carpeted steps. The lamp held high above my head in one hand, sent a stream