Yet the leader, studiously maintaining his Ku-Klux masquerade, parleyed
with his underlings and consulted a heavy nickel-cased watch. His
gesture showed a petulant impatience. The men in the silent circle
stirred uneasily and from time to time low growls broke from their
muffled lips. Obviously they were awaiting some development which
though overdue had not materialized.
The half hour became an hour, then doubled itself to a full two--in
oppressive silence.
"What be ye awaitin' fer?" Alexander demanded in a taunting voice,
though inwardly she felt that the peril was pregnant and immediate.
The only satisfaction she could deny them now was that of any confessed
fear.
This time the speaker snarled his answer back at her angrily, without
any consistent attempt at holding the ritualistic impressiveness of
manner.
"Mebby we're waitin' fer midnight--twell ther black cat comes."
Alexander could not guess that all these malefactors were on
tenterhooks of misgiving because the arrangement entered into as a
concession to the vanity of Jase Mallows had failed; the fictitious
rescue which was to re-establish him in the eyes of the girl and give
to them the chance to practice highway robbery, still stopping short of
murder.
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