Geraldine cried out, and springing forward grasped his arm. He paused at the first voluntary touch he had ever received from her. "Don't you dare strike that boy!" she exclaimed breathlessly. Carder looked down at the white horror in her face and in her shining eyes. "I'm goin' to get the truth out of him," he said, his mouth twitching. "You go up to the house." "I will not go up to the house! Put down that whip! If you strike Pete, I'll kill myself." She finished speaking, more slowly, and Rufus, looking down into her strangely changed look, became uneasy. "I guess not," he said. "You go up to the house." "I mean it," declared Geraldine in a low tone. "What have I to live for! My own father, the only one on earth I had to love, has sold me to a man who has shown himself a ruffian. One thing you have no power over is my life, and what have I now to live for!" Carder dropped the whip. There was no doubt of her sincerity. "Now, Geraldine, calm down," he said, anxiety sounding through his bravado. "I'm sorry I had to give you that shock about Dick; but it was your own high-headed attitude that made it necessary. Calm down now. I won't touch Pete. What was it, boy," he went on, addressing the dwarf in his usual tone--"What did that man ask you?" "The shortest way to Keefe," repeated the dwarf. His eyes were fixed dully on Geraldine, but his heart was thumping. She had said she would kill herself if his master struck him. Rufus looked at him, unsatisfied. "What did he give you?" he asked after a silence. Pete put his hand in the pocket of his coarse blue shirt and drew out a half-dollar. "Humph!" grunted Rufus. "You can go." He turned back to Geraldine. "Is one allowed to write letters from here?" she asked. "Of course, of course," replied Rufus genially. "What a foolish question." His face had settled into its customary lines. "Where do we take them? Out to the rural-delivery box? I should like to write to Miss Upton. She was very kind to me." "No, don't mail anything there. It isn't safe. Right here is the place." He indicated a box on his desk. "Drop anything you want to have go right in here. I'll take care of it." "Yes," thought Geraldine bitterly. He will take care of it. Another motor-cycle now sped into the driveway and approached. This time it was the tenant Carder had expected, and Geraldine left the office and went back to the house. At the moment when she stepped out of the yellow building, Pete ceased mowing the grass. Looking back when she had traversed half the distance, she saw that he was following her, the mower clicking after him. "Poor slaves," she thought heavily. "Poor slaves, he and I!" CHAPTER VII A Midnight Message