Part 89

"Thank you!" said the man, standing aside to let them pass.

"I am Miss Carrington--whom do you wish to see?"

"Captain Carrington, is he at home?"

"I do not know--if you will come in, I'll inquire."

"You're very kind!" with another bow.

He sprang forward and opened the gate. Davila thanked him with a smile, and she and Elaine went in, leaving the strangers to follow.

The next instant, each girl was struggling in the folds of a shawl, which had been flung over her from behind and wrapped securely around her head and arms, smothering her cries to a mere whisper. In a trice, despite their struggles--which, with heads covered and arms held close to their sides, were utterly unavailing--they were caught up, tossed into the tonneau, and the car shot swiftly away.

In a moment, it was clear of the town, the driver "opened her up," and they sped through the country at thirty miles an hour.

"Better give them some air," said the leader. "It doesn't matter how much they yell here."

He had been holding Elaine on his lap, his arms keeping the shawl tight around her. Now he loosed her, and unwound the folds.

"You will please pardon the liberty we have taken," he said, as he freed her, "but there are----"

Crack!

Elaine had struck him straight in the face with all her strength, and, springing free, was on the point of leaping out, when he seized her and forced her back, caught her arms in the shawl, which was still around her, and bound them tight to her side.

"Better be a little careful, Bill!" he said. "I got an upper cut on the jaw that made me see stars."

"I've been very easy with mine," his companion returned. "She'll not hand me one." However, he took care not to loosen the shawl from her arms. "There you are, my lady, I hope you've not been greatly inconvenienced."

"What do you mean by this outrage?" said Davila.

"Don't forget, Bill!--mum's the word!" the chief cautioned.

"At least, you can permit us to sit on the floor of the car," said Elaine. "Whatever may be your scheme, it's scarcely necessary to hold us in this disgusting position."

"Will you make no effort to escape?" the chief asked.

"No!"

"I reckon that is a trifle overstated!" he laughed. "What about you, Miss Carrington?"

Davila did not answer--contenting herself with a look, which was far more expressive than words.

"Well, we will take pleasure in honoring your first request, Miss Cavendish."

He caught up a piece of rope, passed it around her arms, outside the shawl, tied it in a running knot, and quietly lifted her from his lap to the floor.

"I trust that is satisfactory?" he asked.

"By comparison, eminently so."

"Thank you!" he said. "Do you, Miss Carrington, wish to sit beside your friend?"

"If you please!" said Davila, with supreme contempt.