# The Trey o' Hearts/Chapter 38
### CHAPTER XXXVIII Hopi Jim

ONCE she had lost touch with her father's creatures, the girl drew rein and went on more slowly and cautiously.
Below her, in the valley, from time to time she could discern three mounted figures. To their progress she regulated her own, abbreviating her own rests in order that they might not distance her who followed a more arduous trail.
As chance served she would scout a little distance back along the upper trail, thinking to surprise pursuit by the men she had defied. But not once did she find any sign to show that she was being followed; and by nightfall she comforted herself with the assurance that Hopi Jim and Marrophat must have guided themselves by her advice, and returned with their report to Seneca Trine.
It was within an hour of midnight when Alan's party made its last pause and camped, unconscious of the fact that, a quarter of a mile above them, a lonely woman paused when they paused and made ​her own camp on the edge of a sharp declivity, choosing the spot because it afforded her a clear view of their twinkling campfire.
She made no fire of her own, but consumed the last of the provisions she had brought with her from the Pullman, then wrapped herself in a blanket and lay down to rest, her last conscious act the wafting of a kiss down to the depths whose shadows hid the man she loved.
The level shafts of the rising sun awakened her, and of a sudden she started up, surprised, by the grating of footsteps on the rocks behind her.
Before she could turn she was caught and wrapped in the arms of Hopi Jim. His face of bronze bent over her, smiling in the triumph of his cunning; his breath fanned her cheek, hot with his desire; his lips threatened hers imminently. …
Only for an instant she remained motionless in the man's embrace. Then, without warning, she was like a steel spring that he sought to supple to his will. She fought like a wildcat, kicking, biting, tearing, scratching, sobbing, panting, despairing—and fought but the more fiercely as despair grew more dark in her consciousness.
She mustered all her strength and wits and will for one last struggle, and in a frenzied moment managed to break his hold a trifle, enough to enable ​her to snatch at the pistol hanging from her belt, and present it at his head.
But it exploded harmlessly, spending its bullet on the blue of the morning sky, and in an instant it was wrested from her.
And now all hint of mercy left his eyes; remained only the glare of rage. He put forth all his strength and Judith was as a child in bis hands. In half an minute he had her helpless, in as much time more her back was breaking across his knee, while he bound her with loop after loop of his rawhide lariat. Then Hopi Jim caught her horse, and lifted the girl to its bare back, face upward, catching her hand and feet, as they fell on either flank of the animal, with more loops of that unbreakable rawhide, and placing the master-knot of the hitch that bound this human pack well beyond her reach.
She panted a prayer for mercy. He laughed, bent and kissed her brutally, and stepped back, still laughing, to admire his handiwork.
Thus he stood for an instant between the horse and the edge of the declivity, a fair mart, stark against the sky, for one who stood in the valley below, holding his rifle with eager fingers, waiting just such an opportunity as he had waited it ever since the noise of débris kicked over the edge by the struggling man and woman had drawn his attention to what was going on above.
​As Alan pressed the trigger, Judith saw a look of aggrieved amazement cross the face of Hopi Jim Slade. Then he threw his hands out, reeled, stumbled at the verge, and abruptly shot from sight over the edge of the bluff.