I don't want to hurt him none, unless I have to. Everything else all
right, I suppose?"
"Sure; quiet as a mouse; asleep, I guess."
"That's good; well you stay here until I come back. Want a gun?"
She did not answer so as to be heard, but West could distinguish the
movement of feet in the outer cabin, and then the closing of a door.
Undoubtedly the two men had gone on deck, leaving the woman there alone.
His feet were not tied, and he could sit up, although the hands were
tightly bound behind him. With eyes accustoming themselves to the gloom,
he could discern something of his surroundings. He was in the ordinary
stateroom of a small yacht, with barely space in which to move about
comfortably. Two bunks were at one side, with a metal stand at their foot
for washing purposes. A rug covered the floor, the beds were made, and a
stool, screwed to the deck, occupied a position just below the porthole.
A few hooks were in evidence on the opposite wall; but no garments
dangled from them to tell of previous occupancy. Indeed the place was
scrupulously clean, as though unused for some time.
West made his way to the port, pushed aside the curtain with his
shoulders and looked out. The smallness of the opening made any hope of
escape in that way impossible; nor could he expect to attract the
attention of any one ashore. His view was limited to the east and north,
a wide expanse of blue water, the only thing in sight being the pleasure
boat bound for Lincoln Park, already little more than a black dot in the
distance.
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