“Yes; even worse villains. I ain’t sich a bad lot. I’ve taken a likin’ to you. You’re good lookin’, and, of course, you know it. We’ll go together into Mexico, where we’ll hide till it’s safe to git out somewheres else. You’ll live with me as my wife, freely if you will, but you’ll live with me jes’ the same. And I’ll treat you well. These emeralds will be as much yourn as mine--that is, the things they buy will. And they’ll make us independent. I’ve done some things that will make me want to hide away from the law for a while. By the time we can go forth and look the world in the eye--the Mexican world, mind ye!--you’ll not be keerin’ much whether you’re married to me or not; for by that time you’ll think I’m a purty good sort of a feller. I know women. What they need is a good whalin’, whenever they think they know it all and want to be boss of the ranch. The Injuns have the right of it. Whale a squaw and she’s obedient. And I reckon it’s the same with a white woman.” “Never!” she cried, starting up. “Before I would be your wife--the wife of such a scoundrel--I’d kill myself!” “Ho, ho!” he said, with a roar of laughter. “A tantrum like that is what I guess I’ll like to see occasionally; it makes you purtier than any picture.” CHAPTER XLV. A SNEAKING COWARD. The terror and horror of that day with Black John at the cave was enough to bring a shudder to Lena. He was truculent and brutal. Having no longer necessity to make him pretend to be what he was not, he did not hesitate to frighten her, apparently for the mere pleasure it gave him. One thing, however, held him somewhat in check; and that was her screams, when he became too violent and too brutal. Unless he tied and gagged her, the only way to keep her from screaming in terror when he spoke too roughly to her was to keep away from her, and permit her to have her own way. She could not escape, for he was out in front of the cave, was armed, and possessed such strength that she was helpless before him. Black John’s desire for quiet in and about the cave was caused by his fear of Buffalo Bill and his pards. Though he still maintained to the girl the fiction that he had fled with her from Indians, and was hiding from Indians, a thing on which she was now skeptical, he did not believe Indians were near, in spite of the surprising attack they had made. His fears of Buffalo Bill mounted high. Hence, throughout nearly the whole of that long and wearing day he lay out on the slope before the cave, watching the surrounding hills, and the little pass from the gorge, by which he had reached this point. He lay almost motionless, too, knowing that to move about was to risk being seen; while, when he remained still, his clothing blended in with the dark rock and protected him.