What she saw fitted itself to nothing real; it was more like a scene clipped from a play.  Two masked men were covering with revolvers a third, who was tied helpless in a chair.  The captive’s face was ghastly and blood-stained, and at first she thought he was dead.  Then she saw his lips move in curious twitchings that showed his teeth.  He seemed to be trying to speak, but the ruffian at his right would not give him leave.

“This is where you pass out, Mr. Lidgerwood,” the man was saying threateningly.  “You give us your word that you will resign and leave the Red Butte Western for keeps, or you’ll sit in that chair till somebody comes to take you out and bury you.”

The twitching lips were controlled with what appeared to be an almost superhuman effort, but the words came jerkily.

“What would my word, extorted—­under such conditions—­be worth to you?”

Eleanor could hear, in spite of the terror that would not let her cry out or run for help.  He was yielding to them, bargaining for his life!

“We’ll take it,” said the spokesman coolly.  “If you break faith with us there are more than two of us who will see to it that you don’t live long enough to brag about it.  You’ve had your day, and you’ve got to go.”

“And if I refuse?” Eleanor made sure that the voice was steadier now.

“It’s this, here and now,” grated the taller man who had hitherto kept silence, and he cocked his revolver and jammed the muzzle of it against the bleeding temple of the man in the chair.

The captive straightened himself as well as his bonds would let him.

“You—­you’ve let the psychological moment go by, gentlemen:  I—­I’ve got my second wind.  You may burn and destroy and shoot as you please, but while I’m alive I’ll stay with you.  Blaze away, if that’s what you want to do.”

The horror-stricken watcher at the door covered her face with her hands to shut out the sight of the murder.  It was not until Lidgerwood’s voice, calm and even-toned and taunting, broke the silence that she ventured to look again.

[Illustration:  “Well, gentlemen, I’m waiting.  Why don’t you shoot?”]

“Well, gentlemen, I’m waiting.  Why don’t you shoot?  You are greater cowards than I have ever been, with all my shiverings and teeth-chatterings.  Isn’t the stake big enough to warrant your last desperate play?  I’ll make it bigger.  You are the two men who broke the rail-joint at Silver Switch.  Ah, that hits you, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up!” growled the tall man, with a frightful imprecation.  But the smaller of the two was silent.

Lidgerwood’s grin was ghastly, but it was nevertheless a teeth-baring of defiance.

“You curs!” he scoffed.  “You haven’t even the courage of your own necessities!  Why don’t you pluck up the nerve to shoot, and be done with it?  I’ll make it still more binding upon you:  if you don’t kill me now, while you have the chance, as God is my witness I’ll hang you both for those murders last night at Silver Switch.  I know you, in spite of your flimsy disguise:  I can call you both by name!”