"Damn you!" cried Hammond in a cracked voice, coming swiftly out of his chair with the bread-knife in his hand and murder in his eyes. "That's no language for a man of your exalted moral qualities," returned Jim. "And remember the ladies! Put that knife down, or something unpleasant will happen to you." Hammond slumped down on to the chair and dropped the knife, and some of the madness faded out of his black eyes. "I'll have the law on ye for this!" he cried. "What law?" asked the other, pleasantly. "Get out!" "I'll breakfast first," said Jim, seating himself at the table. Hammond glared for a minute, speechless at last, then bolted from the room. Jim ate with a good appetite. "Jim, you got the nerve!" exclaimed Melchior. "If I had half yer nerve I'd been out of this a year ago. But he'll do you, fer all yer nerve." Jim smiled noncommittally and buttered a hot biscuit. "Please don't go away," whispered Mrs. Hammond. "He-he seems to be scared of you. I feel kinder safer--an' the children, too--with you in the house, Mr. Todhunter." Jim glanced at her and then across the table at Alice. The girl raised her drooping lids slowly and gave him a slow, wide-eyed, glowing, point-blank look. "That's right," she said. "But he has told me to go," returned Jim. "And I'll be delighted to." "He didn't mean it," said Melchior. "He'll be beggin' you to stop forever as soon as he gets a holt on his temper. Let you go--a rich young feller like you!--before he's skinned you. Not much!" "But I'm not rich. I'm poor." "You poor! With that gun an' that rifle an' all those pairs of boots an' five fancy fishin'-rods! Tell another, Jim!" "Please stop a spell longer," begged Mrs. Hammond. "You got a way with him I ain't seen in any one else, man or woman. It's like he was scared of you, or of yer folks in the States, or something. It's a great comfort to me, whatever's the reason of it." So Jim promised to remain longer, if possible--but entirely on his own terms. Jim and Melchior left the house and went over to the store. Amos was already there, talking to a customer. The young men retired to the back of the premises. "Look at 'im now," whispered Melchior. "Would ye think he'd been mad enough to bite a chunk outer his own ear only fifteen minutes ago? Not on yer life! He's a wonder! Wait till Sunday and you hear 'im at meetin'. Say, it would make me laugh if I wasn't his own son. Wish I could handle 'im like you do. I noticed you didn't tell 'im where ye'd been last night, after all." "No, I didn't, though he's welcome to the information," replied Jim. "I was shooting along a road up-river that turns off to the left--" "Piper's Glen," interrupted Melchior. "Was you up to Peter Ducat's?" "I wasn't anywhere. I had a time finding my way back. I met Mr. Merton on the road and went to his house. I dined there--that's all. But I like the looks of Piper's Glen." "Sure you do--but you look out for Mark Ducat!"