“Yes—­just as you came.”

He turned once more to Ray, eyeing him with such a look of contempt and scorn that it smarted like a whiplash in spite of the protecting mantel of his new-found triumph.  “Oh, you depraved dogs!” he told them quietly and distinctly.  “You yellow, mongrel cowards!”

Ray straightened, stung by the words.  “And I’ll make you wish you was dead before you ever said that,” he threatened.  “I’ll tell you what you wanted to know a minute ago—­and I tell you no.  I won’t make any deal with you.  We’ll do what we like to you, and we’ll do what we like with your dirty squaw, too—­the woman you’ve been living with all these months.  We’ve got you where we want you.  You’re in no fix to make terms.  Chan—­put a rope around his legs and a gag in his rotten mouth!”

They moved toward him simultaneously, and Ben summoned the last jot of his almost-spent strength to hurl them off.  They did not need deadly weapons for this wasted form.  Yet for the duration of one second Ben fought with an incredible ferocity and valor.

He hurled Chan from his path, and his sound right arm leaped to Ray’s throat in a death grip.  For that one instant his old-time strength returned to him,—­as to Samson as his arms went about the pillars of the temple.  They found him no weakling, in that first instant, but a deadly, fighting beast, the “Wolf” Darby of the provinces,—­his finger nails sinking ever deeper into the flesh of Ray’s throat, his body braced against Chan’s attack.  And for all that Beatrice’s arms were tied, she leaped like a she-wolf to her lover’s aid.

But such an unequal battle could last only an instant.  Ray focused his attack upon Ben’s injured left arm, Chan struck once at the girl, hurling her to the ground with a base blow, then lashed brutal blows into Ben’s face.  The burst of strength ebbed as quickly as it had come:  his legs wilted under him, and he sank slowly to the ground.

Maddened with battle, for a moment more Chan lashed cowardly blows into his face; and he left the brutal labor only to help Ray affix ropes about his ankles.  Then the two conquerors stood erect, breathing loudly.

Seemingly the utter limit of their brutality was reached,—­but for the moment only.  A strange and foreboding silence fell over the camp:  only the sound of troubled breathing was heard above the lessening crackle of the fire.  They did not turn at once again to the work of crushing Ben’s life out with their fists and boots, nor did they restrain Beatrice as she crawled over the blood-stained grass to reach her lover’s side.

“Let her go,” Ray said to Charley.  “She can’t help him any.”

It was true.  They had put up their last defense.  The girl crept nearer, lying almost prone beside him, and her soft hands stole over his bruised flesh.  But no tears came now.  She was past the kindly mercy of tears.  She could only gaze at him, and sometimes dry half-sobs clutched at her throat.  The man half-opened his eyes, smiling.