"You are mine, mine at last.
Here you shall remain a prisoner until you have consented to be my wife." All seemed, indeed, lost.
"Am I too late, Miss St.Clair ?" Snake le Vasquez started at the quiet, grim voice.
"Sapristi!" he snarled.

"You!" "Me!" replied Buck Benson, for it was, indeed, no other.
"Thank God, at last!" murmured Estelle St.Clair, freeing herself from the foul arms that had enfolded her slim young beauty and staggering back from him who would so basely have forced her into a distasteful marriage.

In an instant she had recovered the St.Clair poise, had become every inch the New York society leader, as she replied, "Not too late, Mr.Benson! Just in time, rather.

Ha, ha! This--this gentleman has become annoying.

You are just in time to mete out the punishment he so justly deserves, for which I shall pray that heaven reward you." She pointed an accusing finger at the craven wretch who had shrunk from her and now cowered at the far side of the wretched den.