broken lands, they galloped swiftly through open spaces. She grew to feel the first herald of fatigue; wondered how many hours had already dragged by; yearned as she had never yearned before for the coming of day after this endless night.
And then at last they stopped. The man with her dismounted and held out his hand to her. With no alternative but with a sudden stiffening of rebellious muscles, she slipped from the saddle. Still with bandaged eyes, her captor's hand on her arm, she went forward a half dozen paces. Then there was a rough wooden floor under her feet and she heard the slam of a door. Now at last she could whip the bandage from her eyes.
She was in a little one room cabin such as one finds everywhere in the mountain country. But, so great was the darkness about her, that to know even that she must pass her hands along the walls. She stumbled against a crude table; sought its surface for a possible match and found nothing; passed on; stumbled against a stove; then a bunk against the far wall. There was a small window; she could feel the rectangular opening but found that it was boarded up securely. She went wearily to the table and sat down upon it, choosing it rather than a bunk of doubtful cleanliness.
She heard the man moving. Evidently he was busy with the horses. Then it grew very silent. There was no sound to tell her if he lounged at her door, if even now he was lifting his hand to the latch, if he had gone away.
