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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

"
He had lost his temper, no longer deeming this a joke.
"You damn vixen," he growled savagely. "This play will soon be done;
do you know who I am?"
"The Senor Pasqual Mendez, but that means nothing," she answered.
"This revolver will kill you as surely as any one else. Do what I say
then, and talk no more--cross your wrists behind."
He did so, and Cavendish strapped the stout belt about them, winding it
in and out until he had sure purchase. He drew it so tightly the
fellow winced.
"It hurts, _senor_," she said, satisfied. "Well, to hurt you a little
is better than what you planned for me. Now lead on. No, listen
first. I know who you are and your power here. That is why we took
this chance of making you prisoner. We are desperate; it is either
your life, or ours, _senor_. You are an outlaw, with a price on your
head, and you realise what chances one will take to escape. Now there
is just one opportunity given you to live."
"What, _senorita_?"
"That you accompany us down this passage into the valley as hostage.


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