It may appear a strange thing that Lynette Brooke slept at all that night. But a fatigued body, healthy and young, demanded its right, and she did sleep and sleep well. A far stranger thing was that, after she had sat in the dark a long time, there had at last come a queer little smile upon her lips and into her eyes, and she had gone to sleep smiling!
For in the deep black silence her quick mind had been busy, never so busy; out of tiny scraps it had constructed a mental patchwork. Nor were all dark-hued threads weaving in and out of it; here and there the sombre pattern had bright-hued spots. Her courage was high, her hopes always at surging high tide; her senses keen. And, after all, Bruce Standing was a blunt, forthright man, in no degree subtle....
He had given her the impression an hour ago of being entirely brute beast. That was true. Further, she told herself with growing conviction, that it had been his great intent to make her regard him as brute and beast; she had angered him, she had drawn upon herself his vengeful wrath; he meant to make her pay; and his first step had been to make her afraid of him.... She went on to other thoughts; Bruce Standing was the man to defy Gallup in his own lair; the man to defy the sheriff; to hurl an axe at an armed deputy ... and yet the only man in Big Pine to lift an angry hand against the unfair play of shutting little Mexicali Joe up in jail! He, alone, had not sought to steal Joe's secret; he alone was ready, against all odds, to throw
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 the door back and let Joe go. Not altogether that the part of the brute and beast!
Another thing: Bruce Standing did not lie. She knew that. And he was not a coward; he did not do petty, cowardly things.... He meant her to believe that there was nothing too cruel and merciless for him to inflict upon her. Yet she had struck him in the face with a stone; she had struck him with her hands, and he had not so much as bruised the skin of her wrists with his big hard hands!... Eager he had been to humiliate her, calling her his slave; eagerly, as soon as he had read her pride, he grasped at the first means of torturing it. Why that great eagerness ... unless he, despite his threat, was casting about in rather blind fashion for means to make her pay?... He wanted her to be afraid of him ... and it came to her in the dark, so that she smiled, that this was because there was little for her to fear!
"In his rage," she told herself, and, fettered as she was, a first gleam of triumph visited her, "he came roaring after me. And, now he has me, he doesn't know what to do with me! To make me his unwilling slave ... unwilling!... that is all that he can think of now."
And again there was comfort in the thought:
"If he meant to harm me, why should he have let me go to-night? An angry man, bent upon real brute vengeance, would have struck at the first opportunity. The opportunity was when he sent Babe Deveril away and had me to do what he pleased with. And he only played the perfectly silly game of making me his slave ... unwilling...."
It was the thoughts which rose with the word that put the little smile into her eyes and brought the first softening of her troubled lips.... Several times she
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 heard him stirring restlessly; once he awakened her with his muttering, and she knew that he was asleep, but that either his wound pained him or his sleep was disturbed by unwelcome dreams—perhaps both.
Bruce Standing woke and sat up in the early chill dawn. He looked swiftly to where Lynette lay. She appeared to be plunged in deep, restful sleep. She lay comfortably snuggled in among the boughs; the curve of one arm was up about her face, so that he could not see her eyes. Naturally he believed them shut; her breathing was low and quiet, exactly as it should have been were she really fast asleep.... She looked pretty and tiny and tired out, but resting. Suddenly he frowned savagely. But he sat for a long time without stirring.
Lynette put up her arms and stretched and yawned sleepily, and then, like a little girl of six, put her knuckles into her eyes. Then she, too, sat up quickly.
"Oh," she said brightly. "Are you awake already? And making not a bit of noise, so as to let me have my sleep out? Good morning, Mr. Timber-Wolf!"
She was smiling at him! Smiling with soft red lips and gay eyes!
He frowned and with a sudden lurch was on his feet.
"Come," he said harshly. "I want to make an early start."
She sprang to her feet as though all eagerness, exclaiming brightly:
"If you'll get the fire started, I'll have breakfast in a minute! There isn't much in the larder, but you'll see what a nice breakfast I can make of it. Then I'll dress your wound and we'll be on our way."
"Look here," muttered Standing, swinging about to stare at her, "what the devil are you up to?"
"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.
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"I mean this cheap play-acting stuff ... as though you were as happy as a bird!"
"Why, I always believe in making the best of a bad mess, don't you?" she retorted. "And, after all, how do you know that I'm not as happy as a bird? I nearly always am."
His eyes were blazing, his face flushed; she saw that she was lashing him into rage. She began to fear that she had gone too far; for the present she would go no farther. But meanwhile she gave him no hint of any trepidation, but kept the clear, unconcerned look in her eyes.
He strode away from her, toward the charred remains of last night's fire. He held her chain in his hand; she hurried along after him, so that not once could the links tighten; so that not once could he feel that he was dragging an unwilling captive behind him. Her heart was beating like mad; she was aquiver with excitement over the working out of her scheme, yet she gave him no inkling of any kind of nervousness.
"I don't know what you are up to and I don't care," he said abruptly. "You are to do what you are told, girl."
"Of course!" she said quickly. "I understand that. I am ready...."
"I am going to take the chain off you now, simply because I don't need it during daylight. But you're not to run away; if you try it I'll run you down and drag you back. Do you understand? And after that I'll keep you chained up."
"I understand," she nodded again. And, when he had removed the chain from her waist, all the time not looking at her while she, all the time, stood smiling, she said a quiet "Thank you."
"While I get some wood," he went on, "you can take
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 some cans and go down to the creek for water. I'll trust you that far ... and don't you trust too much to the screen of willows to give you a chance for a getaway! I tell you, I'd overhaul you as sure as there is a God in heaven!"
She caught up two cans and went down the slope toward the creek. To keep him from guessing how, all of a sudden, her heart was fluttering again, she sang a little song as she went. He stared after her, puzzled and wondering. Then with a short, savage grunt, he began gathering wood.
Was now her time? This her chance? She sang more loudly, clearly and cheerily. She wanted to look back to see if he was watching her every step; yet she beat down the temptation, knowing that if he did watch and did see her turn he would know that she was overeager for flight. She came to the creek; she passed carelessly about a little clump of willows. Now she looked back, peering through the branches. He was stooping, gathering wood; his back was to her!
"Now!" her impulses cried within her. "Now!"
She looked about her hurriedly, in all directions. There was so much open country here; big pines, wide-spaced. If she ran down the slope he must surely see her when she had gone fifty or a hundred yards. And then he'd be after her! If she turned to right or left, the case was almost the same. If it were only dark! But the sun was rising....
She began singing again, so that he might hear. A sudden anger blazed up within her. With all his blunt ways, the man was not without his own sort of shrewdness; he had known that she had no chance here to escape him; no chance for such a head start as to give her an even break in a race with him.
... After ten minutes she came back to him; she
............