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For a long, breathless moment Ha his cigar between his teeth Twice he started to

speak, but literally choked back the bitter words burning his lips,

while an uncontrollable adan to

overcoer

"By God!" he exclai toward

the door "I have shot et your cloth

You little iirl from death, or

worse; I plucked her froot sand; so far as I know there is not a single soul for her to turn

to for help in all this orld And you, youPresbyterian parson, you want me to

shake her! What sort of a wild beast do you suppose I am?"

Wynkoop had taken one hasty step backward, iray eyes But now he paused, and, for

the only tie of polite

society inadequate to express his needs

"I think," he said, scarcely realizing his oords, "you are a daht upon which other lea anies of war His hand swept