The Finding of Jasper Holt by Grace Livingston Hill

Jean turned white with deadly sickening fear, but kept her head courageously up. She whipped up her pony and tried to get away, but the strong hand held the bridle and the little beast could only rear, almost throwing her. Moreover, a gleaming pistol shone into Jean's terrified eyes, and Scathlin in gloating voice spoke low:

"Oh, no, my pretty, you don't come any of your little tricks on me. You've stole a paper I give you to give to your brother, an' I mean to have it without any further nonsense. Hand it over! " and he grasped her roughly by the arm.

"Help! Mr. Holt! _Jasper! _" she screamed.

Something was stuffed into her mouth and the barrel of the pistol gleamed between her eyes. She could feel the cold steel against her flesh. The earth seemed reeling beneath her, and her senses were going from her. Was there no hope of help from anywhere?

"Now, my pretty, I'll just he'p myself to that paper. " Scathlin's voice was malevolent, his eyes gleaming. Like the cold slimy length of a serpent coiling around her soul, the meaning of his words slid about her consciousness. She felt she was sinking out of the world of knowledge into a blackness where she could not protect herself.

Then quickly, sharply, a voice brought her back to consciousness.

"Drop that pistol! Let go of that lady! Now, march!"

It was Holt's voice, low, merciless, commanding; and a revolver was in his hand.

Scathlin fell away like water, turning deadly white and cringing. The day of his judgment had come swiftly, and there was no escape. He knew that look in Holt's eye. He had sinned away his last probation. Holt would never trust him again. There was not even time to destroy the letter which he had wanted to keep and give to Harrington as evidence against the girl.

"March! " said Holt's voice again, and the revolver came uncomfortably near to Scathlin's temple.

Scathlin marched.

"Go straight to the house and wait there till I come," commanded Holt as Scathlin backed weakly away. "If you attempt to escape I'll turn the bloodhounds loose after you."

Scathlin turned a shade paler. He had had experience with one of those bloodhounds. He had no desire to meet the whole pack. He hastened his footsteps.

Jean sat with wild eyes watching, her hand upon her heart.

"You didn't send him for the paper, did you? " she demanded eagerly. "I knew you would never have sent him."

"Send for the paper, what paper? " asked Holt in wonder. "I never sent him for anything."

"Then how did he know what was in my letter to you?"

"Letter? What letter? I never received a letter from you."

"Then he must have opened it and read it. Oh, _he will show it to my brother! _"

But Holt's voice rang out clearly before her sentence was fairly finished: