There were not many of them, and they looked a pitifully frail barricade to her.
A silence that followed was endured with her cringing against the barricade.

She had a hope that Dale would search for the money--that he would find it, and go away without attempting to molest her.

But when she heard his step just outside the door, she gave up hope and stood, her knees shaking, awaiting his first movement.
It came quickly enough.

She heard him; saw the door give just a trifle as he leaned his weight against it.
The movement made her gasp, and he heard the sound.
"So you're still there, eh?
Well, I thought you would be.

Open the door!" "Dale," she said, desperately, "get out of here! I'll tell you where the money is--I don't want it." "All right," he said, "where is it ?" "It's in the parlor; the packages are stuffed between the springs of the lounge." He laughed, jeeringly.
"That dodge don't go," he said in a voice that made her feel clammy all over.