Tempestuous was the rush of the horses across the narrow flats between the cliff and the end of the dam. So violently did Flagg jerk them to a standstill in front of the shack, one horse fell and dragged down the other in a tangle of harness. Flagg left them to struggle to their feet as best they were able. He leaped off the jumper and thrust with the handle of his whip in the direction of the dynamite operations. The old man's features were contorted into an arabesque--a pattern of maniacal rage. His face was purple and its hue was deepened because it was set off against the snow which crusted his garments after his descent through the drifts. Knotted veins stood out on his forehead. There was no coherence in the noises he was making in his effort to speak words. He kept jabbing with his whip handle. Evidently Craig's first thought was that the menace of the whip was for him; he half put up a curved arm to ward off blows. In spite of his attention to Flagg he surveyed Latisan with considerable astonishment. Ward had not recovered his poise. A passenger is usually more perturbed than a driver in desperate situations. That crazy dash down the cliff had frightened him into speechless and numb passivity. He still clung to the jumper seat with his stiffened fingers. "Before you do anything you'll be sorry for, Mr. Flagg, let me assure you that we have the law behind us in what we're doing," suggested Craig, with nervous haste. "The legislature extended our charter for development purposes and a special act protects us." Flagg strode away a dozen paces and then came back with better command over his faculties of speech. "Damn your legislature! What right has it got to tamper with a landbreak that God Almighty has put between waters?" "The act was passed, Mr. Flagg. There was an advertised hearing. If you were interested you should have been there." "What does a legislature know about conditions up here?" demanded Flagg, with fury. "They loaf around in swing chairs and hearken to the first one who gets to 'em. They pass laws with a joker here and a trick there, and they don't know what the law is really about. You're stealing my water. By the gods! there's no law that allows a thief to operate. And if you've got a law that helps you steal I'll take my chance on keeping my own in spite of your pet and private law." "Go ahead, Flagg," said Craig, impudently, no longer apprehensive about the whip. "I'm not your guardian to save you from trouble. There's water enough for all of us." "You have swept the slopes so clean for your cursed pulp-wood slivers that you have dried up the brooks, and there isn't enough water any more, and you know it. Your damnation canal will suck the life out of the Noda."