had watched, convincing herself of her father's guilt. Lawler had
wondered how she had gained the knowledge she seemed to have, and
Singleton's visits must be the explanation.

Hamlin had bowed his head again after a swift glance at Lawler. He
stiffened when he felt Lawler at his side again, for there had come into
the atmosphere of the cabin a premonitory chill which warned him that
Lawler was on the verge of action.

But he was not prepared for what happened.

Lawler's sinewy hands fell on his shoulders. The fingers bit deeply into
the flesh, drawing a groan of pain from Hamlin. He was lifted to his
feet--off his feet, so that he dangled in the air like a pendulum. He
was suspended by the shoulders, Lawler's fingers gripping him like iron
hooks; he was shaken until his feet, powerless to retard the movement,
were flopping back and forth wildly, and his teeth rattled despite his
efforts to clench them. It seemed to him that Lawler would snap his head
from his shoulders, so viciously did Lawler shake him. Then suddenly the
terrible fingers relaxed, and Hamlin reeled and swayed, dizzy and weak
from the violence of movement. He was trying to keep his feet solidly on
the floor when he felt Lawler's fingers at his throat.

To his astonishment, the fingers did not sink into the flesh. They
touched his throat lightly, and he dazedly met Lawler's eyes, burning,
with a passion he never had seen in them before. And Lawler's voice was
dry and light, but steady--so steady and cold that Hamlin realized that
only the man's complete mastery of himself had kept him from committing
murder.