ake's allusion to a cyclone.

At Tresler's movement the blind man roused at once and proceeded with
his story.

"And he roams this country at large, unchecked, unopposed. Working his
will whithersoever he fancies, unseen, unknown but for his sobriquet.
And you claim he and Anton are one. This great man--for in his way he
is great, head and shoulders above all other criminals, by reason of
the extent of his exploits. Pshaw!"--his tone was scoffing--"let me
tell you, on three different nights when this monster was abroad,
carrying destruction in his path, Anton was driving me. Or, at least,
was with me, having driven me into Forks on one occasion, and twice in
the neighborhood of Whitewater. No, I am aware that Anton is a
black-leg, or has been one, but he has served me well and truly since
he has been my servant. As for the saddle-marks," he leaned back in
his chair and his gentle smile returned slowly to his face. "No, no,
Tresler, that is insufficient. Remember, Anton is a Breed, a young
man, and, as Breeds go, good-looking. There is a Breed camp in the
neighborhood where they indulge in all the puskies and orgies native
to them. We must question him. I expect he has taken French leave with
my horses."

"But you forget the Breed camp has gone," put in Jake quickly. "Since
the comin' of the sheriff and his men to Forks they've cleared out,
and, as yet, we ain't located 'em. I expect it's the hills."

"Just so, Jake," replied Marbolt, turning to the foreman coldly. "I
forgot that you told me of it before. But that makes little
difference. I have no doubt Anton knows where they are. Now," he went
on, turning again to Tresler, "I hold no brief for Anton in
particular. If I thought for a moment it were so," a sudden storm of
vindictiveness leapt into his tone, "I would hound him down, and be
near while they hung him slowly to death on one of our own trees. I
would willingly stand by while he was put to the worst possible
tortures, and revel in his cries of agony. Don't mistake me. If you
could prove Anton to be the rascal, he should die, whatever the
consequences. We would wait for no law. But you are all on the wrong
trail, I feel sure."

He had dropped back into his old soft-spoken manner, and Tresler felt
like hating him for the vileness of the nature he displayed.

"You plead well for Anton, Mr. Marbolt," he could not help saying,
"but after what I heard last night, I cannot believe he is not in
league with thes