"We spit on the dogs.

I will show you--come!" He gripped her shoulder in his lean hand, his eyes glaring into her face savagely.

The grasp hurt, and a sudden anger spurred her to action.

With a quick twist she freed herself, and, scarcely knowing how it was done, snatched the heavy driver's whip from Moore's hand.
The next instant, before the astounded Mexican could even throw up an arm in defence, the infuriated girl struck, the stinging lash raising a red welt across the swarthy cheek.

Cateras staggered back, his lips giving utterance to a curse.
Again she struck, but this time his fingers gripped the leather, and tore it from her hands, with sufficient force to send her to her knees.
With a spring forward the man had her in his grasp, all tiger now, the pretence at gentleness forgotten.