She approached him again with the bar uplifted, believing
that he was stunned and disabled; but thrusting his hand into his
pocket he drew his pistol and cocked it.
'Advance a step, you infamous old murderess, and your brains strew
the ground.' She was foiled and let drop her weapon. But for the hell
of rage that stormed within her she must have some outlet.
'Ah,' she screamed,' so you have turned traitor to your own;' and
launching the bar at The Lifter's head, she knocked him insensible to
the ground. The unfortunate wretch lay where he fell, without making
a move, and Roland perceived that the blood welled from a wound in
his head.
'So you warned him, did you?' she screamed again, and stooping she
picked up the bar and raised it above his head. Roland well understood
the murder in the old miscreant's eyes, and leaping forward seized the
weapon, wrenched it from her grasp, and flung it far into the bush.
'Touch him not, or your miserable life will be the forfeit.' She
made no reply, but simply scowled with the hatred of a fiend upon
him. Turning then she resumed her work of stirring the fruit in the
pot.
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