His clenched fist was lifted and brought down with a crashing blow in her face. She fell against the sharp edge of the window-ledge, clinging blindly as she struggled to her feet, but he knew she was unconquered. Dragging the pistol from his belt, he hurled the loaded weapon at her. It struck the window casing a few inches above her head, then dropped to the floor, the black composition handle shattered, leaving only the steel rim, but the cartridges failed to explode. Glendon glared at her as she stood panting against the wall, her white face contrasting vividly with the blood that oozed from cuts on cheek and lip--the eyes that regarded him held no fear. She knew that death was standing beside her, but it seemed a welcome friend, with outstretched, sheltering arms. "I'll make you understand that you are my wife," the man started threateningly toward her, his hand reaching down to pick up the pistol on the floor. Neither of them saw the dog which had been watching from beneath the bed, and now was dragging itself stealthily forth, its lips twitching, its eyes blazing in fury. With a sudden spring, it caught Glendon's hand in its strong, gleaming teeth. The man's curses mingled with deep-throated growls, and as they fought, the woman stood dumb, unable to move. The blood on her face dripped slowly on the white gown. There was a shot, and Glendon rose to his feet, kicking the dog that lay dying on the floor. With a cry of pity, Katherine stooped, and the brute that had given its life in an effort to protect her, lifted its head feebly and licked her hand. Then with its eyes on her face, it gave a convulsive shudder. With quivering lips and trembling hand she laid it down on the floor, rose and faced her husband. "Will you do what I tell you?" he demanded. "No! You can kill me as you have killed Tatters, but I will not touch that money!" He leaped at her, caught her by the throat and flung her violently to the floor. Weak, voiceless, still unconquered, he watched her drag herself again to her feet. He levelled the pistol at her head. She did not flinch as she faced it. Glendon thrust it back into the holster. "Damn you! I'll get along without you; but I won't kill you. I'm going to kill that dude doctor and see how you like that to remember me by!" He poured more liquor, then bending under the weight of the saddle bags, he strode through the door. Katherine stood dazed, staring down at the dead dog on the floor, as though her brain had ceased working. Outside, in a lull of the storm, sounded the sharp beat of hoofs. Glendon was riding past the house. "He is taking the road to the Springs, Tatters," she said slowly, her eyes on the dead dog as she spoke to it. There were chains on her brain;--it could not think; chains on her hands and feet--she could not move.