In the Shadow of the Hills by George C. Shedd (the best ebook reader for android txt) 📕

within. There was Martinez' living- and sleeping-room. The furnishings comprised a bed, an old scratched bureau, a stand with wash-bowl, a red and black Navajo blanket on the floor, a trunk, a stool and a dilapidated stuffed chair--just such a chair as a paper could be hidden in. That into this room the lawyer's assailants had burst their way was apparent from the splintered door hanging from one hinge at the rear.

Beckoning Juanita to bring the lamp, Janet ran to the arm-chair.

"Ah, here it is!" she cried, when she had turned the piece of furniture over and inserted her hand in the rent. "It wasn't found, after all! Come away now."

Relief and exultation replaced her depression of the moment before. She had succeeded; she had helped the lawyer outwit his enemies; she must now return home to await Steele Weir's arrival, or if he failed in that then go to the dam.

In the outer room she bade the Mexican girl place the lamp on the table once more and blow it out. This was done. They groped forward to the door.

"Follow me out quietly, Juanita," Janet said. "Only Mr. Martinez knows we've been here, and Mr. Weir, the engineer. See, I'm trusting you. This is a very important paper for Mr. Weir, and other men are trying to keep it out of his hands. So you must say nothing to any one about our being here."

Juanita assented in a whisper. Janet thereupon opened the door and the pair stepped forth. A faint hissing sound directly before them startled both. But the American girl immediately recognized it for what it was, the faint murmur of an automobile engine.

She quietly closed the office door, caught her companion's arm to lead her away.

"Don't talk," she whispered in her ear.

At the same instant the beam of an electric hand torch flashed in their eyes, blinding them. Then as quickly the light was extinguished and a heavy blanket was flung over Janet's head. Her cry was choked off, but not that of the Mexican girl who had been struck by the corner of the cloth and who heard her mistress struggling in the arms of the man who had seized her. The sound of the struggle moved towards the car and then Juanita, paralyzed by fright, was stunned by a sudden roar of the exhaust, a grind of gears, and a rush in the darkness. The automobile had gone, carrying off Janet Hosmer a muffled prisoner. Juanita regaining use of her legs fled for Doctor Hosmer's unmindful of the mist against her face.

Janet's sensation had been that of strangulation and terror. In the thick folds of the blanket, held and lifted by strong arms, all she could offer in the way of resistance was futile kicks. She had been jammed into the automobile seat and firmly kept there by an embrace while the car was being started, which did not relax as the machine gathered speed. For some minutes this lasted, while she strained painfully for breath, and then she perceived the car was stopping.

Her terror increased. What now would happen? These men after overpowering Felipe Martinez had abducted her in their determination to possess themselves of the paper. Finding it in her hand--for she still clutched it--what then? Would they kill her?

The car was now completely at rest. The arm was withdrawn from about her; hands gripped her hands and forced them together; a handkerchief was tightly knotted about her wrists. Afterwards her ankles were bound by a strap. Then the blanket was lifted from her form and head and she gasped in again pure night air.

"Here's a gag," said the man at her side. "Keep quiet and I'll not use it; if you open your mouth to make a sound, I shall. It's up to you." And with the hoarse threat she caught the heavy sickening odor of whiskey on the speaker's breath.

"You, Ed Sorenson! You've dared to do this!" she exclaimed, fear vanishing in anger.

"Yes, sweetheart," came with a mocking accent.

"Untie me this minute and let me out!"

"Oh, no. You've got the wrong line on this little game. We're going for a ride, just you and me, as lovers should."

Janet began to think fast.

"How did you know I was in Mr. Martinez' office?" she demanded.

"Because I saw you go in, little one. I was just pulling up at your door to coax you out when I saw you and the Mexican wench appear. So I followed along. Saved me the bother of telling you your father had been hurt in an accident. He's chasing off somewhere thirty miles from town on a 'false alarm' call to attend a dying man. Sorry I had to use the blanket; sorry I have to keep your naughty little hands and feet tied up. But it's the only way. After we're married, you'll forget all about it in loving me."

So this was the face of the matter. Not the paper she gripped, but she herself was his object. His abduction of her had nothing to do with Martinez' affair; he knew nothing of the larger plot; and for that reason she experienced a degree of relief.

"I'll never marry you, be certain of that," said she, recurring to his statement. "If anything had been needed to settle that point, what you have done now would be enough. You shall pay for this atrocious treatment. Untie my hands."

"Oh, no. We're starting on."

"Your father as well as mine shall know of this."

"I think not, dearie. We're going up into the hills where I've a nice little cabin fixed up. And we'll stay there awhile. And then when we come back, you'll not do any talking. On the contrary, you'll be anxious to marry me--you'll be begging me to marry you. Of course! People know we're engaged, and they'll know you've been away with me for two or three days. Do you think they'll listen to any story about my carrying you off against your will? They'll wink when they hear it. Yes, you'll be ready to marry me all right, all right, when we come back to San Mateo."

Janet's blood ran cold at this heartless, black plan to ensnare her into marriage.

"Ed, you would never do a thing like that," she pleaded. "You're just trying to scare me with a joke. Be a good fellow and untie my hands and take me home."

"No joke about this; straight business. I told you you should marry me----"

"You're drunk or mad!" she burst out, terrified.

"Neither; perfectly calm. But I'm not the fellow to be tossed over at a whim. I'm holding you to your word, that's all. You'll change your mind back as it was by to-morrow; you'll be crazy to have me as a husband then. I won't have to tie your hands and feet to keep you at my side when we come riding home to go to the minister's. Now we've had our little talk and understand each other; and it's beginning to drizzle. Time to start for our little cabin. The less fuss you make, the pleasanter it will be for both of us."

He set the gears and the car started forward once more. A sensation of being under the paws of a beast, odious and fetid, savage and pitiless, overwhelmed her. That this was no trick of a moment but a calculated scheme to abase and possess her she now realized with a sort of dull horror. And on top of all he was, despite his denial, partly drunk.

Through the terror of her situation two thoughts now continued to course like fiery threads--one a hope, one a purpose. The former rested on Juanita, whom in his inflamed ferocity of intention, the man seemed to have forgotten--on Juanita and Steele Weir, "Cold Steel" Weir; and this failing, there remained the latter, a set idea to kill herself before this brute at her side worked his will. Somehow she could and would kill herself. Somehow she would find the means to free her hands and the instrument to pierce her heart.

Sorenson had switched on his lights. He drove the car through the damp darkness at headlong speed along the trail that leaped from the gloom to meet them and vanished behind. At the end of a quarter of an hour he swung into a canyon; and Janet perceived they were ascending Terry Creek. He stopped the car anew.

"I'll just take no chances with you," he exclaimed. "We have to pass your friends, the Johnsons, you know. Had to take my stuff up here in the middle of the night--up one night and back the next--and mighty still too, so that they wouldn't suspicion I was fixing a little bower for you."

He bound a cloth over her mouth and again flung the blanket over her head. Janet struggled fiercely for a moment, but finally sank back choking and half in a faint. She was barely conscious of the car's climbing again. Though when passing the ranch house the man drove with every care for silence, she was not aware of the fact. Her breath, mind, soul, were stifled. She seemed transfixed in a hideous nightmare.

At length her lips and head were released. But her hands and feet were numb. Still feeling as if she were in some dreadful dream she saw the beam of the headlights picking out the winding trail, flashing on trees by the wayside, shining on wet rocks, heard the chatter of the creek over stones and the labor of the engine.

The road was less plain, a mere track now, and steeper. They were climbing, climbing up the mountain side, up into the heavier timber, up into one of the "parks" among the peaks. Johnson's ranch was miles behind and far below. Occasionally billows of fog swathed them in wet folds that sent a chill to Janet's bones.

Sorenson held his watch down to the driver's light.

"Ten o'clock; we're making good time. Must give the engine a drink--and take one myself."

He descended to the creek with a bucket, bringing back water to fill the steaming radiator. Afterwards, standing in the light of the car's lamps, he tilted a flask to his lips and drank deep.

"Not far now; three or four miles. But it's slow going. Have to make it on 'low'," said he, swinging himself up into his place.

Janet held her face turned away. She was thinking of Juanita and Steele Weir. Had the girl gone home again? Or, terrified, had she run to her own home and said nothing? Had the engineer come and waited and learning nothing at last returned to the dam? Despair filled her breast. Even should the Mexican girl have apprised him of the kidnapping, how should he know where to follow? And in the solitude of the wet dark mountains all about her hope died.

She began desperately to tug against the handkerchief binding her wrists.

Suddenly the going became easier and she felt rather than saw that the trees had thinned. A flash of the car lamps at a curve in the trail showed a great glistening wall of rock towering overhead, then this was passed and the way appeared to lead into a grassy open space. A dark shape beside the road loomed into view--a cabin by a clump of pine trees. Sorenson brought the car to a stop a few yards from the house.

"Here at last," he announced, springing down.

He unstrapped her feet, bade her get out.

"I