ly, and at the
game time deceiving her blind old father.

The hay in the corner field had all been loaded, and the teamster was
stooping for the reins, when the raucous honk of an auto caused him to
pause and look toward the road.

"It's Ben an' the girls now," he exclaimed. "Ye'd better open the
gate."

"Oh, I guess they will get through all right," Douglas replied.

"No, ye'd better go," the teamster urged. "Ben'll be as mad as the
devil if ye don't. If ye won't, then I'll have to git down an' do it.
There, he's tootin' his horn agin. He's pretty mad, I can tell ye
that."

Carrying his fork over his shoulder, Douglas walked deliberately across
the field toward the gate. He did not wish to hurry, as he wanted to
see how angry Ben could become, and what he would do.

"Get a move on there, you lazy devil!" Ben shouted. "Didn't you hear
the horn?"

Douglas had almost reached the gate, when he suddenly stopped and
stared at the man in the car. He had seen that face before only for a
few seconds beneath the electric light at Long Wharf on the waterfront.
But he would have known it anywhere, for it had been indelibly
impressed upon his memory. So Ben Stubbles was the contemptible coward
who had pushed that woman into the water and left her to her fate! He
had often longed to come face to face with that man, and he had planned
what he would do when they met. But here he was before him, haughty
and impudent, Nell's lover, and the son of the autocrat of Rixton.

"What in h---- are you staring at?" Ben demanded. "Didn't you ever see
human beings before? Open the gate, and be damned quick about it, too."

The blood surged madly through Douglas' veins, and to relieve his
feelings he clutched the gate and tore it open. The occupants of the
car were greatly amused at his alacrity, and attributed it to fear.

"That stirred your stumps, all right, didn't it?" Ben sneered, as the
car lurched past and then sped up the drive-way.

Douglas closed the gate, fastened it, and hastened to the barn where
the teamster was awaiting him. He climbed into the loft and stowed
away the hay as it was handed up to him. At times he hardly knew what
he was doing, so greatly was his mind agitated. Why had he not given
that fellow the sound thrashing he deserved? And yet he was thankful
that he had controlled himself, as he might have spoiled all his plans
had he given way to hasty action. He worked with a feverish haste all