f passion. "I'm tired of
Millville," she exclaimed, "I'm tired of the factory. I'm tired of living
here as we do in this miserable, tumble-down place we call home. I'm
tired of working like a slave, while a drunken father--"

The words had scarcely left the girl's lips when Tom Welcome, red-eyed,
dishevelled, swaying, appeared in the doorway behind her. His face was
lit with demoniac passion. He rushed at the girl and she screamed in
terror. With a vicious lunge he struck her down and then, seizing her by
the hair, dragged her into the bedroom where, amid her cries, he rained
blow after blow upon her.

Harvey Spencer, just passing through the gate, heard the first scream. He
rushed back into the house as Welcome, finished for the moment with
Elsie, had returned to the cottage living room and was approaching his
wife menacingly. He seized the raging man by the collar and hurled him
into a corner.

"Stay there," he said, "or I'll brain you."

Welcome stood for a moment glaring at the intruder. He attempted to
speak, but foam flecked his lips and seemed to choke his voice. His eyes
acquired a fixed and unearthly stare. He raised his fist as though to
strike and then plunged headlong to the floor.

Patience was the first to reach her father's side. A vivid flash of
lightning followed by a terrific detonation of thunder rocked the
cottage.

"He's dying," screamed Patience.

Mrs. Welcome, forgetting past injuries, sprang to her husband's side.

"Tom," she wailed, "speak to me. Tom--Tom, I'm your wife--"

The dying man tried to sit up. His mania had passed. He patted his wife's
shoulder feebly and smiled. A great weakness had come into his face.
"Forgive me," he said, "I didn't know--I didn't know what I was doing. It
was the drink. I am going. Call Elsie!"

Patience sprang toward the bedroom, but it was empty. The open doors
through the kitchen showed how she had fled. As she searched frantically
for her sister, the little clock on the mantel slowly struck the hour of
eight.

"She's gone," cried Patience. A premonition of the tragedy of Elsie's
flight flashed upon her mind. "Oh," she cried, "my little lost sister! My
little lost sister!"

"Gone," cried Harvey. "Gone where?" He opened the door. The rain was
falling pitilessly. "Not out into this storm. Someone must find her." He
rushed out into the darkness.

"Gone!" echoed Tom Welcome. His voice was hollow as a knell. The
drink-racked body stiffened in a spas