"Get out!" he said furiously.

"Hey, take it easy," Roy said, grinning, his eyes still on the girl. "Why should you have all the fun? I'll give you a hand. This is right up my alley."

Steve advanced on his brother, his eyes furious.

"Get out," he said, "and keep out."

Roy hesitated, then shrugged.

"O.K.," he said, and laughed. "You can have her until she's well, then I'll take over. I've got a way with women. She won't claw my eyes out. I know how to tame a wildcat like her. You watch and see, and don't think you'll stop me, you big hick. I'm going to have a lot of fun with this beauty," and still smiling he slouched down the pa.s.sage and out on to the verandah.

chapter two.

A week pa.s.sed.

It was a bewildering week for Steve, kept hard at work running the farm, cooking the meals and nursing Carol. Roy made no effort to help him, and spent most of his time sitting on a high crag overlooking the mountain road and staring with fixed intensity into the empty valley.

Steve guessed that something or someone was terrifying his brother, and decided that Roy's fear and jumpy nerves were partly responsible for his vicious mood. This conclusion seemed right, for after the third day of nothing happening Roy became less nervy and hostile and finally ceased to watch the road. By the end of the week he was almost friendly-at least, as friendly as his sneering, selfish nature would permit. But he was still determined that Steve shouldn't leave Blue Mountain Summit while he was there, and Steve was forced to accept the situation.

Now that Carol had Steve's room, the two brothers shared the only other bedroom, and Steve had further proof of his brother's nervousness. Roy scarcely slept, tossing and turning through the night; and when he did doze off it was only to start up at the slightest sound.

Carol, however, was making rapid progress. She had been very ill for the first two days of her stay at the cabin, and Steve had to be constantly with her. But once the fever had left her, the wound began to heal, and she quickly gained strength.

But her mind remained a blank after the accident. She had no recollection of anything that had happened nor of Glenview nor who she was. She had complete and child-like faith in Steve, and as the days pa.s.sed, the accepted conventions between man and woman swept aside by her helplessness, there grew up between them an odd and intimate relationship that bewildered Steve and awakened in Carol a deep feeling of affection for him which quickly turned to love.

Steve had always been shy with women. When Carol was ill and helpless he regarded her the way he would have regarded a sister (if he had had a sister), and attended to her needs impersonally and with no feeling except that of embarra.s.sment. But when she was convalescing and showed so obviously that she was in love with him he did not know how to cope with the situation.

As soon as Carol was able to get up, she trailed rather helplessly after him wherever he went, and she was never happy unless she was with him. He was the pivot around which her life now revolved.

Not knowing of her mental history, Steve a.s.sumed that the head injury she had received had not only obliterated her memory but had, in some inexplicable way, broken down her adult reserve, giving her the mentality of a child. It would be out of the question, he argued to himself, to respond to her love for him or to take advantage of it, and he kept a tight rein on his feelings for her, refusing to believe that this love was anything more than an odd mental twist that would pa.s.s when her memory returned.

On the other hand, Roy was quick to realize that she might be easy prey, and she was seldom out of his mind. Although she paid him no attention, her mind being continually focussed on Steve, he was confident that, given the right opportunity, he would make her yield to him.

One morning, as he was lounging by the lake, he saw her coming down the path through the pine trees. Steve was busy in the cabin and out of sight, and seizing this opportunity of having her to himself, Roy stepped squarely in her path.

"h.e.l.lo," he said, eying her over. She looked radiant in the pale sunshine and her beauty quickened his blood. "Where have you been?"

"To feed the foxes," she said, her voice flat and casual. "I want to find Steve," she went on; added, "You're in my way."

"But I want to talk to you," Roy said, moving closer. "It's time you and me got to know each other."

"I want to find Steve," she repeated; tried to step round him, but he prevented her.

"Never mind Steve. Come on, be nice. I like you, kid. I could go for you in a big way." He caught hold of her, pulled her to him. She stood against him, unresisting, uninterested, her eyes still looking towards the cabin. His hands went round her back and he held her close, feeling her soft hair against" his face. It was like holding a tailor's dummy, but Roy was scarcely aware of her apathy. He had been without a woman for three weeks, and to Roy that was three weeks too long. He didn't care how apathetic a woman was so long as he could have his hands on her body and she didn't resist him.

"Please let me go," Carol said seriously. "I want to find Steve."

"He won't run away," Roy said thickly, swung her round, bending her back. He looked into her blank serene eyes, then crushed his mouth down on hers. Her lips were hard and tight under his, but her hands hung limply at her sides. She neither resisted nor complied.

Blood hammered inside his head as his hands slid over her. and he bent her further back, holding her close to him.

Then suddenly he was dragged round, and releasing Carol with an oath he caught a glimpse of Steve's infuriated face. Before he had a chance to reach for his gun Steve's fist crashed to his jaw and he fell heavily and lay on the pine needles, stunned.

"Do that again and I'll break your neck," Steve said evenly; put his arm round Carol, drew her away. "Come on," he said to her. "Let's get back to the cabin."

"Why did you hit him?" Carol asked, walking contentedly by Steve's side. "I didn't mind."

"I didn't want him to frighten you," Steve returned, giving her a quick, puzzled glance.

"I wasn't frightened. But I don't like him," Carol said. "If you don't want him to do that to me again I won't let him. I didn't know if that's what you wanted."

"No," Steve said, bewildered by this reasoning. "I don't want him to do that again."

Roy watched them go, then he got slowly to his feet. He was so elated that Carol hadn't resisted him that he almost forgot that Steve had knocked him down. He had kissed her! It had been like taking candy from a kid. If Steve hadn't shoved his oar in . . . why, she was a pushover!

That night, when Roy was in bed, Steve came into the bedroom after locking up. Roy had kept out of the way all day, but now, face-to-face once more with Steve, he decided to take the initiative before his brother slanged him.

"You watch your fists, you big hick," he said, scowling. "The next time you start something like that you'll pick lead out of your belly."

"Then keep your hands off the girl," Steve said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Can't you see she's not normal? That bang on the head's done something to her. She's like a kid. So lay off, Roy. There can be no fun in fooling around with a girl in her mental state."

"Can't there?" Roy grinned. "All cats are grey in the dark whether they're nuts or normal. She's just a woman to me, and I like women."

"Lay off or we'll have a show-down," Steve said, his face grim.

"You've some hopes," Roy said. "What's to stop me knocking you off ? No one would find you here for months, and by that time I'd be miles away. You watch your step. I can do what I like here, and the sooner you realize it the better."

Steve kicked off his shoes, began to undress.

"I'm telling you. Keep your hands off Carol."

"She likes me. She let me kiss her, didn't she? You can't kid me a girl with her stack-up doesn't like being kissed. If you hadn't shoved your oar in we'd have got along fine together."

"I shan't tell you again," Steve said quietly. "If I have to take you, I'll take you, gun or no gun."

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Roy's eyes were the first to give ground.

"Aw, nuts to you," he said, rolled over.

Steve got into bed.

"What are you scared of?" he asked abruptly. "Who's after you?"

Roy whipped round, half sat up.

"Shut your mouth. I'm not scared of anyone."

"But you are. You're as jumpy as a flea. Who are you running away from-the police?"

Roy jerked up the ugly blunt-nosed automatic.

"I'll blast a hole in you if you don't shut up," he snarled, his face white and twitching. "Why I haven't knocked you off before-"

"Because you're afraid to be left alone," Steve said quietly. "You want me behind you when what you're expecting to happen happens."

Roy dropped back on his pillow, slid the gun out of sight.

"You're crazy," he said, turned off the light. "You don't know what you're talking about. I'm going to sleep."

But he didn't. He lay awake for hours, listening to Steve's heavy breathing, seeing the moonlight on the big pine trees through the open window.

The night was quiet and still. A soft breeze rustled in the trees and the water swirled gently round the jetty.

Roy thought of Carol, wondered if he could leave the room without waking his brother. If he could get into Carol's room, the rest would be easy; he was sure of that. The idea of holding Carol once more in his arms suddenly galvanized him into action. He half raised himself, looked across at Steve. As he did so a movement outside the cabin caught his eye. His desires drained from him and he sat up, his heart racing.

A shadow crossed the open window: a gliding, silent shadow that had come and gone before his eyes had scarcely time to register it.

Fear gripped him and he lay transfixed in bed, staring at the window.

A light step sounded on the verandah, then another. A board creaked. The sound came nearer.

Roy grabbed hold of Steve, shook him violently.

Steve woke instantly, sat up, feeling Roy's frenzied fingers digging into his arm. He stared at Roy's white face, sensed immediately that something was wrong.

"What's up?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Someone's outside," Roy said. His voice was shaking. "Listen."

Somewhere down by the lake Spot began to howl mournfully.

Steve swung his legs out of bed, paused as he saw the shadow once more at the window. He leaned forward.

"It's Carol, you fool," he said. "Pull yourself together."

The breath whistled through Roy's clenched teeth.

"Carol? What's she doing out there? You sure?"

"I can see her," Steve said, crept to the window.

After a moment's hesitation Roy joined him. Carol was pacing up and down the verandah. She had on Steve's cut-down pyjamas and her feet were bare.

"d.a.m.n her," Roy said softly. "She scared the pants off me. What's she doing?"

"Quiet," Steve whispered. "Maybe she's walking in her sleep."

Roy grunted. Now he had recovered from his fright the picture Carol made, bare-footed, in the white silk pyjamas, her red hair loose on her shoulders, fired his blood.

"She's a looker, isn't she?" he said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "What a shape she's got!"

Steve made an impatient movement. He was puzzled, wondering what the girl was doing, pacing up and down out there.

Suddenly Carol paused, looked in their direction as if sensing she was being watched. The moonlight fell directly on her face, and both men saw a change in her expression that startled them. The muscles in her face seemed to tighten, the lines contort, giving her a sly look of animal cunning. There was a nervous tic at the side of her mouth and her eyes were like pieces of gla.s.s and as soulless. Steve scarcely recognized her.

Spot howled miserably from his hiding-place across the yard, and Carol turned swiftly to look in that direction. Her whole bearing was as quick and lithe as the movements of a jungle cat, and as dangerous. Then, as Spot howled again, she disappeared through the open window of her room.

"What the h.e.l.l do you make of that?" Roy asked uneasily. "Did you see the way she looked? Did you see that expression?"

"Yes," Steve said, worried. "I'd better find out what she's doing."

"Take care she doesn't scratch your eyes out," Roy said with an uneasy laugh. "She could do anything the way she looked just now."

Steve pulled on a dressing gown, took an electric torch and went down the pa.s.sage to Carol's room. He opened the door quietly.

Carol was in bed, her eyes closed, the moonlight on her face. She looked as lovely and as serene as she always did, and when Steve called to her, she didn't move.

He stood for a moment watching her, then quietly shut the door and returned to his room.

He slept as badly as Roy that night.

Sam Garland and Joe were cleaning an ambulance in the big garage at the rear of Glenview Mental Sanatorium.

"Don't look now," Sam said, polishing away, "but that news hawk's heading this way."

Joe showed his two gold teeth.

"I like that guy. He's persistent. Think we could bite his ear for a few potatoes?"

"Idea," Sam said, stood back to admire the glittering chromium headlamps.

Phil Magarth, lean, tall, carelessly dressed, sauntered up to them. He had been around for the past week trying to get some worthwhile information about the patient who had escaped from the sanatorium, but apart from a short, useless statement from Dr. Travers and a curt "Get the h.e.l.l out of here" from Sheriff Kamp, he had got nowhere.

Magarth, the local reporter for the district as well as a special correspondent for a number of Mid-West newspapers, had an instinct for news, and he was sure there was a big story behind the escape if he could get at it. Having tried every other avenue for further information without success, he decided to see what he could learn from Garland and Joe.

"h.e.l.lo, boys," he said, draping himself over the hood of the ambulance. "Found that loony yet?"

"No use asking us," Garland said, resuming his polishing. "We're just hired helps, ain't we, Joe?"

"That's right," Joe said, winked at Magarth.