Now she must stand motionless while every fibre of her being demanded
action; now she must curb impetuosity to the call of caution. As the
seconds passed, all but insupportable in their tedious slowness, she
stood rigid and tense, waiting. But soon she knew that the drug had
had its will with him, that he was steeped in deep sleep, that no
longer must she wait, that now at length she might act.
Carrying her saddle-blanket she came to him and stood quietly looking
down into his upturned face. At last she could let the tears burst
into her eyes unchecked, now she could suddenly go down on her knees
beside him, for an instant laying her cheek lightly against his in the
first caress. Would it be the last? He stirred a little and sighed
again. She drew back, still upon her knees again breathlessly rigid.
But his stupor clung heavily to him, and she knew that it would hold
him thus for hours.
A score of burning questions clamoring in her mind she disposed of
briefly, since time was of the essence.
"If I let you have your way, Rod Norton," she whispered, "you will go
on from crime to tragedy. If I hand you over to the law, I will be
betraying you for no end; for your type of man finds the way to break
jail and so force his own hand to further violence. There is the one
way out.
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