That is, until within a few minutes.
Then it seemed to her that she heard some giant body threshing around
near her; she heard a stifled scream and incoherent mutterings. The
thing was so close, the thumping and threshing so real, that she
started and sat up in bed, staring wildly around.
She saw on the floor near her two men. One had his hands buried in the
other's throat, and the face of the latter was black and horribly
bloated.
This scene, Peggy felt, was real, and again she tried to scream.
The effort was successful, though the sound was not loud. One of the
men turned, and she knew him.
"Ben," she said in an awed, scared voice, "what in God's name are you
doing?"
"Killin' a snake!" he returned sullenly.
"Dale?" she inquired wildly. Her hands were clasped, the fingers
working, twisting and untwisting.
"Maison," he told her, his face dark with passion.
"Because of me! O, Ben! Maison has done nothing to me. It was Dale,
Ben--Dale came to our place and attacked me. I felt him carrying
me--taking me somewhere.
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