All ready, Joe?"
The man at the wagon muttered some response.
"Then up you go, miss; here, put your foot on the wheel; give her a
lift, will you?"
Anxious to escape further indignities, and comprehending the
uselessness of any further struggle, with a man on either side of her,
Miss Donovan silently clambered into the wagon, and seated herself on a
wide board, evidently arranged for that purpose. The fellow who had
held back the top followed, and snuggled into the seat beside her. She
noticed now he held a gun in his hand, which he deposited between his
knees. The leader drew back the flap of canvas endeavouring to peer
into the dark interior.
"All set?"
"Sure."
"Well, keep awake, Joe, and mind what I told yer. Now, Moore, up with
you, and drive like hell; you must be in the bad lands before daylight."
A fellow clambered to the seat in front, his figure outlined against
the sky, and picked up the reins. Those within could hear the
shuffling of the horses' feet as though they were eager to be off. The
driver leaned forward.
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