"It will
soon--hello, what's this!"
Clasped tight in the slender fingers was something that looked like a
torn and crumpled rubber glove. He tried to unclasp the fingers, but
when he touched them, they contracted rigidly, and a low moan burst
from the unconscious girl. So, after a moment, he desisted and laid
the hand down again.
"You understand what you're to do?" he asked the maid, and she nodded
mutely. "Then come along, boys," he added, and led the way back to the
hall. His face was dripping with perspiration and his hands were
shaking, but he managed to control them. "And now for Senor Silva," he
said, in another tone, taking the torch from my hand. "I fear he will
have a rude awakening."
"He sat there like a statue, even when I shot the snake," remarked
Simmonds. "He's a wonder, he is."
"Yes," agreed Godfrey, as he stepped into the entry, "he's a wonder."
Then he stopped, glanced around, and turned a stern face on Simmonds.
"Where's the man I left on guard here?" he asked.
"Why," faltered Simmonds, "I remember now--he helped us carry the
young lady. But we were all right there in the hall--you don't
mean .
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