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Updated: May 9, 2025


The big red hand clutched fast on Carmena's throat and held her off at arm's length. Contemptuously heedless of her frenzied struggles, he fixed a hard stare on Pete. "You," he ordered, "git a hustle on. Rope this hellcat, pronto." Though Pete's hesitancy was almost imperceptible, Slade's revolver swung up toward him. The young Navaho sprang forward, jabbering to his fellow tribesman.

Made eloquent by desperation, McAlpin never rose to greater heights of profane candor. It was as if he were making his last will and testament of hatred and contempt for his murderer, and when he had showered on his enemy every epithet stored in a retentive memory he struck his empty glass on the bar and shouted: "Now, you hellcat, shoot!"

"Has this presumptuous hellcat who bore thee taught thee to stand before my face, to tell me what thou wilt and wilt not do? By the Koran! too long have I endured her evil foreign ways, and now it seems she has taught thee how to tread them after her and how to beard thy very father! To-morrow thou'lt take the sea with Sakr-el-Bahr, I have said it.

Out from the corridor the Greek came staggering, and Max now perceived that he was bleeding profusely from a wound in the breast. "She came back," whispered Gianapolis, clutching at the Frenchman for support... "the hellcat!... I did not know... that... Miss Cumberly was here. As God is my witness I did not know! But I followed... HER Mahara... thank God I did!

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