And these blasted pine-knots don't give light an inch beyond 'em.

D--d if I don't think they make this cursed hole blacker." There was a laugh--a woman's laugh--hysterical, bitter, sarcastic, exasperating.

The second speaker, without heeding it, went on:-- "What in thunder skeert the hosses?
Did you see or hear anything ?" "Nothin'.

The wood is like a graveyard." The woman's voice again broke into a hoarse, contemptuous laugh.

The man resumed angrily:-- "If you know anything, why in h-ll don't you say so, instead of cackling like a d--d squaw there?
P'raps you reckon you ken find the trail too." "Take this rope off my wrist," said the woman's voice, "untie my hands, let me down, and I'll find it." She spoke quickly and with a Spanish accent.
It was the men's turn to laugh.