"Goddamn, grab her before she gets on the porch," one of the men gasped almost out of breath behind her.

"Don't worry about me, worry about those little titties you were talkie' so much about," the other voice rang out from the darkness behind her.

She was just a few yards from the lawn that surrounded the house, and she strained and plunged in a final desperate surge of energy to go to the porch. God! It didn't seem to get any closer! Then from a short distance down the road she spotted the headlights of a car approaching them. The thought flashed through her mind that if there weren't people in the house she would be done for. So, abruptly changing her direction, she sprinted towards the center of the road, waving her arm at the headlights of the approaching vehicle.

And that had been her mistake.

Suddenly she felt her arms wrenched violently backwards and the steel grip of a hand muffle her mouth. She stood in the center of the road with the two men grappling violently against her, and her arms and legs flailing out wildly in a vain attempt to free herself from her captors. The only hope now was that the car that was nearing them would stop and offer her some assistance.

But it didn't.

It slowed down as it approached the struggling figures and Ellen could see a face press against the side window, then she heard the motor gun as the automobile shot out again into the murky darkness. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, phantom-like from nowhere, leaving her to suffer her fate alone on the empty shore-line highway.

"Help me! Oh God, please! Help me! Pleeeeaaase," Ellen finally wrenched her mouth from under the man's hand and wailed uselessly into the night after the disappearing car.

"Goddamn, she's a tough little bitch," she heard come from behind her, and felt the vise-like grip against her arms send piercing stabs into her straining shoulders. Once again the hand clenched tightly over her mouth.