Was he dead or alive?
Since his Angel had seen Black Jack she never had glanced his way.

Was she completely bewitched?
Would she throw herself at the man's feet before them all?
Couldn't she give him even one thought?
Hadn't she seen that he was gagged and bound?
Did she truly think that these were McLean's men?
Why, she could not! It was only a few days ago that she had been close enough to this man and angry enough with him to peel the hat from his head with a shot! Suddenly a thing she had said jestingly to him one day came back with startling force: "You must take Angels on trust." Of course you must! She was his Angel.

She must have seen! His life, and what was far more, her own, was in her hands.

There was nothing he could do but trust her.

Surely she was working out some plan.
The Angel knelt beside his flower bed and recklessly tore up by the roots a big bunch of foxfire.
"These stems are so tough and sticky," she said.