Hervey was unnerved. But suppose he let Perris
come back to his senses, wakened those insolent blue eyes, started
that sharp tongue to life--then it would be a very much easier matter
to shoot.
So Lew went to the door, took the rope from Red Jim's saddle, and with
it bound the arms of Perris to his side. Then he lifted the hanging
body--how light a weight it was!--and placed it in a chair, where it
doubled over, limp as a loosely stuffed scarecrow. Hervey tossed more
wood on the fire and when he turned again, Perris was showing the
first signs of returning consciousness, a twitching of his fingers.
After that his senses returned with astonishing speed. In the space of
a moment or two he had straightened in the chair, opened dead eyes,
groaned faintly, and then tugged against his bonds. It seemed that
that biting of the rope into his arm-muscles cleared his mind. All in
an instant he was staring straight into the eyes and into the thoughts
of Hervey with full understanding.
"I see," said Perris, "it was the chair that turned the trick. You're
lucky, Hervey."
It seemed to Hervey a wonderful thing that the red-headed man could be
so quiet about it, and most wonderful of all that Perris could look at
anything in the world rather than the big Colt which hung in the hand
of the victor.
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