Not that Rokoff would have felt the slightest
compunction in ignoring any promises he might have made the girl,
but he disliked the idea of having to sue for favour with one who
had so recently assaulted and escaped him.
Already he was gloating over the days and nights of revenge that
would be his while the heavy dugout drifted its slow way to the
ocean.
Jane Clayton, working furiously to shove the boat beyond his reach,
suddenly realized that she was to be successful, for with a little
lurch the dugout swung quickly into the current, just as the Russian
reached out to place his hand upon its bow.
His fingers did not miss their goal by a half-dozen inches. The
girl almost collapsed with the reaction from the terrific mental,
physical, and nervous strain under which she had been labouring
for the past few minutes. But, thank Heaven, at last she was safe!
Even as she breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving, she saw a
sudden expression of triumph lighten the features of the cursing
Russian, and at the same instant he dropped suddenly to the ground,
grasping firmly upon something which wriggled through the mud toward
the water.
Jane Clayton crouched, wide-eyed and horror-stricken, in the bottom
of the boat as she realized that at the last instant success had
been turned to failure, and that she was indeed again in the power
of the malignant Rokoff.
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