ing. But this was only for a moment. In a second he had regained his poise. Raising the glass to his lips, he drained it to the bottom and turned to his host.
"Thank you, sir," he said carelessly, "for your kind wishes for my good health. I hate to dispute you, but I don't believe you will hang me in the morning. And my name is not Waring, either. It happens to be Ross."
"As you will, Mr. Waring, as you will. Any name would do as well. And I assure you I shall have the pleasure of hanging you in the morning. Let me warn you, too, Mr. Waring, not to attempt anything. I want this dinner peaceful. It is an engagement dinner," turning with an exaggerated bow to the girl, "the occasion of the betrothal of my dear niece to Mr. Beebe here. I know you will be interested in that, Mr. Waring. But just to forestall any idea you might have of providing any unnecessary entertainment I have stationed my friends, Mr. Garfin and Mr. Poole, at the door with instructions to shoot if you get unruly. Now, let us eat."
Ross glanced over his shoulder to find Garfin lounging in the door by which he had entered, a malignant smile wrinkling his face. In an opposite doorway lounged another individual fully as ugly looking as Garfin. This was evidently Poole. Both had guns. It was obvious that for the present no break for liberty was possible.
For the most part, that dinner was a nightmare to Ross. Afterward he wondered how he had managed to get through it.
After the first effusion, the elderly man made no effort to include Ross in the conversation. Glad of this respite, Ross attempted to collect his wits and to form some estimate of his predicament and of the people with whom he had to deal.
The elderly man carried on a continuous animated conversation, mostly with the man whom he had designated as Beebe. Several times he addressed himself to Ross, but always in such a manner that it was obvious no answer was expected. A number of times he included the girl in his conversation, but the only time she made reply was to answer a question, and then it was merely to say, "No, Uncle Arthur."
Once or twice Beebe addressed the elderly man as "Mr. Ward," so Ross concluded that his name was Arthur Ward. The girl's identity he was not able to learn, except that her first name was Virginia.
Beebe ignored Ross and by his attitude seemed to be currying favor with Ward. As for the girl, she remained silent, her eyes downcast, palpably holding herself aloof. Once or twice Ross caught a fleeting message from her eyes. It seemed to him that she was in utter terror, yet in perfect control of her nerves.
In those flashing telegrams from her eyes Ross was sure he caught a mute appeal for help. If this was a betrothal dinner Ross felt sure that the betrothal was without the consent of one of the parties concerned, and he was determined then and there not only to effect his own escape but to aid the girl as well.
The food was excellent and perfectly served by the Chinese, yet Ross could not have told a single item, and he thought the dinner never would end. The presence of Garfin and Poole was mute evidence that for the present he could do nothing. When the meal finally came to an end and Ward pushed back his chair, it brought a feeling of distinct relief to the young man. Now at least was the beginning, of the end.
"Now, Mr. Waring," said Ward suavely, "we will repair to my study, where I have a few things to say to you before we break up this very pleasant little party. I hardly think my niece will care to accompany us."
They rose from the table, and Ross was ushered into an adjoining room which was even more striking in its way than either of the others he had been in that evening.
A brisk fire burned on a wide hearth from above which looked down a magnificent ram's head. Other trophies of a similar nature adorned the other walls. Interspersed with these were guns, Indian weapons, horsehair lariats—in fact, every accoutrement and trophy of the old-time West. It was a rather remarkable collection, one which under different circumstances would have deeply interested Stanley Ross.
Instantly he knew where those curious antiquated shackles, which had bound the girl, had come from. Here were several similar pairs.
Ross was directed to a chair in front of the fire. Ward took another, facing him, while Beebe sat down on a wide bench on the far side of the fire. Ross waited expectantly.
Ward offered his guest a cigar. Selecting one for himself, he clipped its end very deliberately and lit it with aggravating leisure. Finally he leaned back in his chair and gazed steadily at Ross with his mad eyes. A tiny smile, cynical and cruel, crooked around his thin-lipped mouth.
"I could have had you killed at once, Mr. Waring," he said deliberately, his voice soft and well-modulated, yet biting, burning, "but I did not choose to do that. Instead, I wanted to bring you here this evening so that you could fully realize just what a serious thing it is, and how useless, it is to buck Arthur Ward. And then, too, I wanted my niece to know that I am to be obeyed absolutely."
"I suppose, Mr. Ward," asked Ross, "that it would be quite useless to tell you that my name is not Waring at all; that I do not even know any one of that name, or that I have never seen your niece, until last evening?"
"Quite useless, I can assure you, Mr. Waring. I am absolutely certain of your identity. I do not make mistakes.
"Mr. Waring, I never forget an injury. I remember forever, and my one bad trait is the fact that I always have revenge. I would have got you in the end, Waring, anyway, but your fool stunt of following my niece here saved me a lot of trouble. Waring, you should have known that of all people on earth you would have the least chance of marrying my niece.
"Tonight you can have the extreme pleasure of reflecting that you will hardly be dead before Virginia will be the wife of Beebe."
"And suppose she refuses?" asked Ross.
"We are a hundred miles from anywhere, Waring. Things could happen that would make Virginia glad to marry Beebe—or any one.
"One more thing, Waring, and then we will terminate this interview," Ward went on dispassionately. "I want you to know that this is only the beginning. I shall not be satisfied until I have exterminated your entire family. It may take me years, but I shall certainly have the pleasure of killing your brother and your father. It does not pay to do in, jury to Arthur Ward.
"You will have tonight to reflect on what might have been. In the morning I shall hang you.
"That is all I have to say, and since it will be quite useless for you to say anything you may as well return to your room. Mr. Garfin and Mr. Poole will see that you have safe conduct."
Ross knew that for the present he would have to submit. Resistance would be useless just now. He was one against four. The odds were too great. He could only wait, hoping that the night would bring opportunity.
However, before he went he could not resist a last display of bravado—bravado which he did not by any means feel.
Rising from his seat, Ross bowed low to Ward.
