"
"Speak, you back there--what's your name--Harney?"
"Yes, sir," said a muffled voice in the shadows behind Roger. "Ed
Harney--Joe Harney's brother. I've got him covered."
"Ho hum!" yawned Garman. "I must follow the ladies. Especially,
Annette--magnificent, tender, fiery little Annette!--Damn her!
Something has happened; she's bold, defiant! She needs taming. Great
sport, woman taming--in the swamp. Good night, Payne. Pleasant
dreams!"
A cloud bank floated across the moon, plunging the woods into Stygian
darkness. Out on the sand of the prairie the thud, thud, thud of
Garman's galloping horse grew fainter and died away. A rift in the
clouds revealed the moon for an instant. Roger whirled round, seeking
to see the man who had called himself Harney. The clouds closed up
again, the woods were black; and a Southern whippoorwill chuckled
foolishly. Ahead, on the trail which he must follow to reach the
Devil's Playground, Roger heard the footsteps of three men, and knew
that Garman had taken all precautions to make good his assertion that
the Devil's Playground was closed to traffic.
The anger which was in his heart craved an outlet. He moved toward the
hidden men, then paused. They were three to one; in the dark a fight
would be folly.
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