"Here's a gag," said the man at her side. "Keep quiet and I'll not use it; if you open your mouth to make a sound, I shall. It's up to you." And with the hoarse threat she caught the heavy sickening odor of whiskey on the speaker's breath. "You, Ed Sorenson! You've dared to do this!" she exclaimed, fear vanishing in anger. "Yes, sweetheart," came with a mocking accent. "Untie me this minute and let me out!" "Oh, no. You've got the wrong line on this little game. We're going for a ride, just you and me, as lovers should." Janet began to think fast. "How did you know I was in Mr. Martinez' office?" she demanded. "Because I saw you go in, little one. I was just pulling up at your door to coax you out when I saw you and the Mexican wench appear. So I followed along. Saved me the bother of telling you your father had been hurt in an accident. He's chasing off somewhere thirty miles from town on a 'false alarm' call to attend a dying man. Sorry I had to use the blanket; sorry I have to keep your naughty little hands and feet tied up. But it's the only way. After we're married, you'll forget all about it in loving me." So this was the face of the matter. Not the paper she gripped, but she herself was his object. His abduction of her had nothing to do with Martinez' affair; he knew nothing of the larger plot; and for that reason she experienced a degree of relief. "I'll never marry you, be certain of that," said she, recurring to his statement. "If anything had been needed to settle that point, what you have done now would be enough. You shall pay for this atrocious treatment. Untie my hands." "Oh, no. We're starting on." "Your father as well as mine shall know of this." "I think not, dearie. We're going up into the hills where I've a nice little cabin fixed up. And we'll stay there awhile. And then when we come back, you'll not do any talking. On the contrary, you'll be anxious to marry me--you'll be begging me to marry you. Of course! People know we're engaged, and they'll know you've been away with me for two or three days. Do you think they'll listen to any story about my carrying you off against your will? They'll wink when they hear it. Yes, you'll be ready to marry me all right, all right, when we come back to San Mateo." Janet's blood ran cold at this heartless, black plan to ensnare her into marriage. "Ed, you would never do a thing like that," she pleaded. "You're just trying to scare me with a joke. Be a good fellow and untie my hands and take me home." "No joke about this; straight business. I told you you should marry me----" "You're drunk or mad!" she burst out, terrified.