with uncontrollable rage.

"Tricked--by God!" he shouted impulsively, and smote the table with his
fist.

His outburst threw the room into confusion. Men sprang from their
chairs. Glasses and bottles fell with clinking crash. Oaths and shouts
arose from the crowd.

"Damn you, I'll have it out of you!" said the man with suppressed fury,
his voice once again smooth and low. "Where is the boy?"

He smote the table again; and with that stroke the false beard fell
from his chin and cheek, and exposed the malignant face, distorted with
rage. A feeling of horrible repulsion came over me, and I should have
struck at that serpent's head but for a startling occurrence. As he
spoke, a wild scream rose upon the air, and as it echoed through the
room the lights went out.

The scream was repeated, and after an instant's silence there rose a
chorus of shouts and oaths, mingled with the crash of tables and the
clink of breaking glass and crockery, as the men in the room fought
their way to the door.

"Oh, my God, I'm cut!" came in a shriek out of the darkness and clamor;
and there followed the flash of a pistol and a report that boomed like
a cannon in that confined place.

My eyes had not been idle after the warning of Mother Borton, and in an
instant I had decided what to do. I had figured out what I conceived to