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"Ay don't tank Ay join anybody any more after Ay tal the Russian you ban dead,"
he said.
"You don't mean that you think he will kill you?" asked Jane, and yet in her heart
she knew that that was exactly what the great scoundrel would do in revenge for
his having been thwarted by the Swede. Anderssen did not reply, other than to
warn her to silence and point toward the path along which they had just come.
"I don't care," whispered Jane Clayton. "I shall not let you die to save me if I can
prevent it in any way. Give me your revolver. I can use that, and together we
may be able to hold them off until we can find some means of escape."
"It won't work, lady," replied Anderssen. "They would only get us both, and then
Ay couldn't do you no good at all. Think of the kid, lady, and what it would be
for you both to fall into Rokoff's hands again. For his sake you must do what Ay
say. Here, take my rifle and ammunition; you may need them."
He shoved the gun and bandoleer into the shelter beside Jane. Then he was
gone.
She watched him as he returned along the path to meet the oncoming safari of
the Russian. Soon a turn in the trail hid him from view.
Her first impulse was to follow. With the rifle she might be of assistance to him,
and, further, she could not bear the terrible thought of being left alone at the
mercy of the fearful jungle without a single friend to aid her.
She started to crawl from her shelter with the intention of running after
Anderssen as fast as she could. As she drew the baby close to her she glanced
down into its little face.
How red it was! How unnatural the little thing looked. She raised the cheek to
hers. It was fiery hot with fever!
With a little gasp of terror Jane Clayton rose to her feet in the jungle path. The
rifle and bandoleer lay forgotten in the shelter beside her. Anderssen was
forgotten, and Rokoff, and her great peril.
All that rioted through her fear-mad brain was the fearful fact that this little,
helpless child was stricken with the terrible jungle-fever, and that she was
helpless to do aught to allay its sufferings--sufferings that were sure to come
during ensuing intervals of partial consciousness.
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