ered. "Julia! get dressed. I will attend to Mr.
Clarke." As she hurried up the stairs he turned to Morton in apology.
"I've been to blame for this separation. I should have asserted my
rights before. No man has the right to shirk his family duty. My duty
was to look after the welfare of my wife and daughter, and now see
their faces! This year has made Julia an old woman." His voice
choked. When he could speak he addressed himself to Clarke. "You
promised me that you wouldn't use the girl's name in any way, and yet
I'm told you're about to publish it broadcast."

"The control consents--"

Here Lambert's wrath broke bonds. "Damn the control! I don't consent.
And I serve notice on you, and on you too"--he directed a menacing
look upon Pratt--"to respect the name of my wife as well as that of my
daughter. Clarke has lived long enough in the West to know what I
mean, but I'll explain to you." He faced Pratt, and with easy, almost
gentle utterance, continued: "I've spent some thirty-five years on the
border, where a man is called upon now and then to serve as his own
judge, jury, and hangman. Perhaps we're a little prone to take matters
into our own hands; but be that as it may, the professor here has
posted me about you and your ways, and I merely want to state, once
for all, that if you utter one word public or private against my wife
or daughter I'll kill you as I would a wolf."

The slow pulsing flow of the miner's voice, the absence of all oaths
or justifying gesture, froze Pratt into immobility and thrilled
Serviss with joy, for he, too, perceived that every word came from the
heart of a very determined and very dangerous man.

Clarke started forward. "You wrong me! Everything I have done has been
for their good--for the good of the world."

Lambert stopped him with a gesture. "Right here you quit, my friend.
I don't question your good intentions, but I'm sick of the whole crazy
business, and so is Julia. Why, good God, man! she looks ten years
older since she left the valley. You've been nothing but a curse to
her and the girl from the very start, and here is where your trail
forks."

The preacher's hollow cheeks were ashen gray and his throat thick with
passion as he cried: "You can't do that! You must not separate us. I
love her--she is mine! The spirit forces have promised her to me. They
will resent your interference, they will over-ride your puny
opposition."

"I take the consequences. They go and you sta