starved timber
wolf; his face was hollow almost as a death's head; his hair was long
and matted, and his eyes burned with a strange, unnatural fire. In that
dark, aquiline face the Indian was never more strongly revealed. He
limped, and I noticed his left hand was gloved.

From under his bristling brows he glared at us. As he swayed there he
minded me of an evil beast, a savage creature, a mad, desperate thing.
He reeled in the doorway, and to steady himself put out his gloved hand.
Then with a malignant laugh, the fleering laugh of a fiend, he stepped
into the room.

"So! Seems as if I'd lighted on a pretty nest of love-birds. Ho! ho! my
sweet! You're not satisfied with one lover, you must have two. Well, you
are going to be satisfied with one from now on, and that's Jack
Locasto. I've stood enough from you, you white-faced jade. You've
haunted me, you've put some kind of a spell on me. You've lured me back
to this land, and now I'm going to have you or die! You've played with
me long enough. The jig's up. Stand out from between those two. Stand
out, I say! March out of that door."

She only shrank back the farther.

"You won't come, curse you; you won't come, you milk-faced witch, with
your great eyes that bore holes in me, that turn my heart to fire, that
make me mad. You won't come. Stand back there, you two, and let the girl
come."

We shielded her.

"Ha! that's it--you defy me. You won't let me get her. Well, it'll be
all the worse for her. I'll make her life a hell. I'll beat her. You
won't stand back. You, the dark one--don't I know you; haven't I hated
you more than the devil hates a saint; hated you worse than bitter
poison? These three black years you've balked me, you've kept her from
me. Oh, I've itched to kill you times without number, and I've spared
you. But now it's my call. Stand back there, stand back I say. Your
time's come. Here's where I shoot."

His hand leapt up and I saw it gripped a revolver. He had me covered.
His face was contorted with devilish triumph, and I knew he meant to
kill. At last, at last my time had come. I saw his fingers twitching on
the trigger, I gazed into the hollow horror of that barrel. My heart
turned to ice. I could not breathe. Oh, for a respite, a moment--Ugh!...
he pulled the trigger, and, _at the same instant, Garry sprang at him_!

What had happened? The shot rang in my ears. I was still standing there.
I felt no wound. I felt no pain. Then, as I stared a