He snatched the sleeve, knelt at Ruth's head; rapidly he crumpled an end, thrust it roughly into her mouth; tied it fast, gagging her.
"Hold her!" he ordered Drake; and with a sob of relief sprang up.

The girl's eyes blazed at him, filled with hate.
"Cut that other sleeve," he said; and when I had done so, he knelt again, pinned Ruth down with a knee at her throat, turned her over and knotted her hands behind her.

She ceased struggling; gently now he drew up the curly head; swung her upon her back.
"Hold her feet." He nodded to Drake, who caught the slender bare ankles in his hands.
She lay there, helpless, being unable to use her hands or feet.
"Too little Ruth, and too much Norhala," said Ventnor, looking up at me.
"If she'd only thought to cry out! She could have brought a regiment of those Things down to blast us.

And would--if she HAD thought.

You don't think THAT is Ruth, do you ?" He pointed to the pallid face glaring at him, the eyes from which cold fires flamed.
"No, you don't!" He caught Drake by the shoulder, sent him spinning a dozen feet away.