son? That I, Teresa Arriega
Temple, would for an instant consider a Packard, the son and the
grandson of a Packard, as worthy of shining my boots for me? Why, I
spit upon the two of you!"

She whirled and was gone into the house. Steve instead of watching her
going kept his eyes hard upon his grandfather's face. Now that the
door closed he said quietly:

"Grandfather, we have seen rather little, of each other. I think we
had better see even less from now on. You have insulted that girl in a
way that makes me want to climb into your car and drag you down--and
beat you half to death!"

His restraint was melting under the fire of his passion; his voice grew
less quiet and began to tremble.

"I am going to make that girl the next Mrs. Packard or know the reason
why!"

"Defy me, do you? Defy me an' go an' run with a pack of thieves
an'----"

"That's enough!" shouted Steve. "I am going right straight and ask
her----"

"Ask her an' hell swallow you!" came the vociferous permission from the
infuriated old man. "But remember one thing: Blenham has slipped up
to-night, maybe, an' let you an' her an' her lyin', thievin',
scoundrelly father steal a march on me. But it's the last one; mark
that! Blenham gets his orders straight from me to-night; he goes after
you to break you, smash you, literally pull you to pieces root an'
branch--an' with me an' Blenham workin' on the job night an' day,
stoppin' at nothin'. Hear me? I mean it!" His two fists were now
lifted high above his head. "Stoppin' at nothin' I'll step on you an'
your Temple frien's like you was a nest of caterpillars. You hear me,
Stephen!"

But Stephen, his lips tight pressed as he fought with himself to keep
his hands off his own father's father, turned and went the way Terry
had gone.

"You hear me, Stephen. There's nothin' I'll stop at to smash you!"

So his grandfather's voice followed him mightily. But young Packard
had already set his thought upon another matter. Before him in the
tiny living-room of the ramshackle store building a kerosene lamp was
burning palely and lying upon an old sofa, face down, shaken with sobs
was Terry.

"Terry!" he called softly. "Your father isn't----"

He thought that she had not heard. He came closer and laid his hand
gently--there was a deep tenderness even in the action--upon her
shoulder. But Terry had heard and now flung his hand violently aside
and sprang to her feet, her eyes blazing angril