part0021

When the girl fainted, he asked, "What are we going to do with her? We dare not release her. If we do, she'll go back to her father and inform him. In a short while we'll have the police here. Why don't you complete the job and kill her?"

Chacko did not answer immediately. He was still glaring at June, while his chest rose and fell with the violence of his emotions.

He was thinking rapidly. Indeed Papachen—for that was his companion's name—had spoken wisely. He dared not release this slut.

"You're right", he conceded, "The D.S.P. will come himself. We'll be forced to flee".

That was something they could not afford to do at this juncture. They were there with the specific purpose of carrying cut the secret plans made by the headquarters of the Party.

It would be easy enough to kill her and dispose of the body. Chacko smiled to himself as he thought of the man-eater. That would afford a wonderful opportunity to anyone to get rid of an enemy. Too diligent a search would not be made for the missing person.

Or he could choke her to death! He would suffocate her with his pillow as she lay unconscious. Just put the pillow over her mouth and sit upon it. She shouldn't take a long time to die then. He might even strangle her.

He could imagine his fingers sinking into her soft flesh as he squeezed and squeezed and squeezed her throat, cutting off the supply of air and forcing her to die slowly. That would make him feel nice in many ways.

Literally he, Chacko, would hold this girl's life in his bare hands. There would be no mercy for her. He would squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. How her soft flesh would shrink and melt under his grasp! Soft flesh!...soft flesh!

Chacko looked down upon the figure of the recumbent girl lying at his feet. How inviting and tempting she looked! Her body was half-twisted around, the lower portion sprawled on its side. Her riding-breeches, encasing calves and thighs so tightly, accentuated the bulge of her hips and posterior, the legs stretched widely apart. At the waist the girl's body had turned so that the upper half lay on its back. This made her figure show admirably. When he dragged her inside the tent, her shirt had become unbuttoned at the neck. Later, as he gripped her, the next button had broken off. The girl was wearing no bodice. A pair of brassieres were partly visible, and Chacko's deep breaths of rage turned into the shorter, quicker breathing of lust as his eyes gazed upon the twin firm mounds so helplessly exposed. He saw and felt in imagination the touch of the tender flesh beneath.

June's hat had fallen off when Chacko had struck her. The hair she always wore loose down her back lay spread in abandoned disorder around her head, its deep rich blackness blending pleasantly with the chocolate-brown complexion of her delicate skin. She looked beautiful and very enticing.

How he would love to undress her! Yes, strip her naked and enjoy this lovely body that was his for the mere taking. Absolutely and entirely his and quite unable to resist him.

If only he was alone and this meddlesome companion, Papachen, was not there. As if to accentuate his unwelcome presence, Papachen addressed him again.

"Well, what are we going to do with her? You haven't answered the question".

A film of lust had come over Chacko's eyes, but he realised in time that it would never do to show such weakness to another member of the Party. Particularly this man. He would tell the others what had happened and how the great Chacko had behaved. Where would his reputation be?

Chacko thought rapidly.

He would keep this girl a prisoner. Later that day; —no, it could not be during the day as they were in hiding; it would have to be that night—he would send Papachen in the car on some mission or the other. That would give him sufficient time in which to have the girl.

"We shall bind and keep her a prisoner in one of the tents till a more opportune time comes to get rid of her", he said.

"Why not do it now?" asked Papachen bluntly.

Chacko swung round to face the speaker, his eyes blazing with frustrated desire. For a moment, he felt like telling this troublesome fellow to mind his own business.

But Chacko held himself in check. On no account, should he betray his feelings by giving away to temper and arousing the suspicions of his companion. Far better would it be to play a patient game and answer mildly. He would have his opportunity as soon as he could make an excuse to send Papachen away.

So, he said in a matter of fact tone, "It'll be dangerous to kill her now. If we do that we will have to get away from here at once and we're certain to be observed in the car in broad daylight. As you know, the police are after us and our descriptions have been widely circulated. Some busybody will recognize us or the car and inform them. Who knows, we might even be caught. It's altogether too risky".

Papachen was forced to agree with this undoubtedly logical argument, although his astute mind and powers of observation had noticed the varying expressions on Chacko's face as he had been looking at the girl and had guessed what caused them. He made no rejoinder but went to the other tent and returned with three pieces of stout cord.

They turned the girl over on her stomach and tied her wrists behind and then bound her feet together. Bending her legs back at the knees, with the third piece of cord they connected her two ankles with the cord that bound her wrists together, so that she was bent like a bow. June was just beginning to show signs of returning consciousness as Chacko forced a cotton handkerchief into her mouth as a gag, and knotted it at the back of her head.

They gave a final glance to see if her bonds were secure and then both men went out and walked towards the larger tent.

Although June did not know it, the tent in which she was a captive belonged to the driver of the car. The previous night the conspirators had dropped him near the Forest Guards' quarters where he was to contact one of them, a Malayali named Kunji Nair, who was already a subordinate member of the Party. This man was to play an important part in events to come. The driver would not return for the next two or three days.

At first, she was filled with terror and tried to call out, but the gag effectively prevented that. She blamed herself bitterly for her foolhardy curiosity. Finally, womanlike, she cried again as she thought of the words of insult that had been flung at her and the blows she had received. How anxious her father would become when she did not return. He would think that she and Tony had been killed by the man-eater. And what had become of Tony, she wondered.

But these thoughts were only transient. June was a brave girl and soon forced herself to face facts and cease recriminating. She had fallen into the hands of desperadoes, and from the nature of the conversation she had overheard the previous night, they were unscrupulous characters who would stop at nothing. Undoubtedly these two individuals were the men who had caused the riot at Ooparpet.

June felt she was extremely lucky to be alive. She knew they could easily have killed her. The fact that she had been made a prisoner all too obviously indicated that they had some purpose in which pity played no part whatever.

Then she realised the fate that lay in store. After that, she knew she would assuredly be murdered. Instead of giving away to futile regrets June determined to concentrate upon finding a way to escape.

The muscles of her thighs began to ache due to the uncomfortable position in which she was lying. So did her shoulders. Fortunately, the two rebels had not tied her to anything nor was she blindfolded. That enabled her to roll from one end of the tent to the other. And she could see.

Desperately, June began to search her surroundings with her eyes for some means of freeing herself; something she could use to sever her bonds. The little tent possessed no furniture beyond the canvas camp-cot in the center. Because of the smallness of the structure, she lay right up against this cot. Under it her eyes came to rest upon a leather suitcase. It had been loosely stuffed with clothes by the owner and the cover of the suitcase lay open upon the things that were inside.

As June looked, she noticed a little green tin box in a corner of this suitcase. Her mind began to work like lightning.

Could that little box contain a safety-razor? It certainly resembled the one her father had. And if the box contained such a safety-razor, were there any blades with it?

June wriggled across so that her head went beneath the cot near the corner of the suitcase. The gag prevented her using her teeth, but she rested on her right shoulder and then craned her neck upwards and forwards till her nose touched the tin box. With a quick jerk downwards, she tipped it out and the box fell soundlessly upon the grassy floor. Gripping it firmly between her chin and neck, she wriggled backwards from under the bed.

June released the box and eased herself higher up the floor till it was in line with her navel. She then lay on her back and slid herself sideways till she felt the box beneath her. In a few moments, she could grasp it between her fingers. Raising her weight on to her shoulder-blades, June began to work feverishly.

The box opened easily enough, and within she could feel a safety-razor. Then her exploring fingers found a number of blades enclosed within their paper covers, wedged in a little niche formed for them in the box itself.

It did not take a moment to lever out one of the blades with her finger nails, and after a little fumbling she was able to remove the sliver of steel from its paper envelope. Now came the difficult part of the operation. June found that by holding the blade at its extreme end between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand she could just manage to reach one of the cords that bound her wrists.

She knew she would have to work fast, as the men might return at any moment. She was lying on the box containing the safety razor, but if they discovered what she was doing they would surely kill her. Exerting what pressure she could upon the blade, the girl commenced to move its edge against the cord, sawing up and down.

A few times she winced with pain as she cut her wrist and felt the moisture of blood cover her fingers and the blade. That made it slippery. This caused the blade to fall from her grasp once and precious seconds were lost groping for it amongst the stems of grass growing on the ground. She found it at last and recommenced the sawing.

Suddenly she felt the cord give. But her wrists were not free yet and June started all over again, cutting at the next cord.

Then she heard the sound of voices from the next tent. Chacko was speaking in Malayalam and June could understand every word he said. She had learned the language during the three years her father had been stationed at Chedleth.

"I wonder if that fool Raman Nair will succeed in inciting the estate coolies to kill the Englishman and his wife today".

"Whoever chose him selected a wrong type of man", Papachen commented. "The fellow seems a craven at heart and has no push”.

"Well", came the answer, accompanied by a loud chuckle that June could distinctly hear, "we can't expect everybody to be like you and me, my friend. If they were, there would not be one white man left alive in the country".

June felt the second cord part. After a few moments of manipulation, she realised one of her wrists was free. Now she was less hampered, and seizing the blade more firmly she cut through the cord that still held the other wrist to her feet. There came a sensation of great physical relief when she severed it at last and was able to straighten her legs that had been bent backwards all this while.

June sat up and began feverishly to slash at the remaining bonds that held her feet together. In a few moments, she was completely free. She clambered to her feet almost to fall again. A couple of minutes were wasted till the circulation of blood was restored. At last she was able to walk.

The drone of conversation still came from the next tent. On tip-toe she crossed the floor and peeped through the flap. There, nearly a hundred yards away, was the car, and close to it her beloved Tony just where she had left him.

An appalling thought came to her now. Even if she succeeded in reaching Tony and riding away on him the men would hear her. They would undoubtedly give chase in the car. What chance would poor old Tony have?

Then June noticed her .3006 propped against the corner of the tent where Chacko had forgetfully left it. Her eyes lit up with pleasure. Now she would have something to defend herself with should the men try to recapture her.

Picking up her rifle and hat, June left the tent. Once outside she ran towards Tony.

She reached him and looked back anxiously. Thank God her escape had not been noticed. There were no signs of pursuit. If she started riding immediately, June realised the horse's hoof-beats would be heard. So she led him away for some fifty yards till the track turned to the left and the tents were out of sight.

She mounted then and rising in the stirrups bent forward to whisper into the animal's ear, "Now Tony, gallop as fast as you can. Please". At the same time, she gave the reins a gentle jerk and jabbed her heels into the horse's flanks.

As if he understood what was required of him, Tony responded. In due course, they passed the turning that led to her father's quarters nor did she hesitate or slow down. June knew where she was heading, but would not have been able to give a satisfactory reason had she been asked. On she galloped to warn the Englishman of the impending danger that threatened him.