a filmy waterfall in the evening sunlight. Far and wide in lumber land, old Cyrus King was known as a man with a violent and ungovernable temper, deadly dangerous when aroused, and, in this respect, at least, Benton was his father's son.
"I'll do up that sneaking, boasting fellow!" he snarled wolfishly, sick to the core with the rage that possessed him.
"Evidently," said Hutchinson, heaping fuel to the leaping flames, "he has begun to amuse himself with Miss Harting."
"I'll get him!" cried Bent again, burning and freezing alternately with fury that made him tremble. "And I'll make quick work of it!"
He wheeled from the window, but Hutch turned with equal swiftness and shot out a pair of hands that fastened upon him.
"Hold on," said the manager. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to fix him—to fix him! Hands off! He can't make a jest of that girl! Amuse himself with her, will he? His pleasure will be brief! Let me go!"
Exerting all his strength, Hutchinson swung the infuriated young man to one side, giving him a thrust that made him stagger. Springing to the door, the manager turned the key in the lock,
