THE WORLD'S GREAT SNARE. E. Phillips Oppenheim
burning. It was not quite so easy to kill a man, after all! Mr. Hamilton thrust his hand into his breast, and his partner bent eagerly down. It was a rashness of which he had reason to repent, for, instead of the paper, he received Mr. Hamilton’s fist full in his face. He staggered against the wall, sick and dizzy. Then the wounded man raised himself with a little moaning cry.
“Myra!” he gasped. “Myra! he’s shot me! Hold him!”
Skein turned round, quaking. Standing upon the threshold, with the moonlight falling upon her white, horrified face, and her slender figure clearly outlined against the deep blue sky, was the girl from the shanty opposite. He did not hesitate for a moment. He leaped past her like a cat, and went headlong down the gorge. She did not try to stop him. Her limbs were paralyzed with horror.
“Myra!” he faltered. “I’m done! Will you come here?”
She did not hesitate then for a moment. She fell on her knees by his side, and took his hand. She forgot her loathing, and she forgot her wrongs. She forgot everything except that she was a woman!
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