"I can't allow you to shoot him, Viola. You will have to shoot me first. My God, child,--do you want to have a man's life-blood on your hands?" "He said she ran away with your father," she cried, a spasm of pain crossing her face. "He said I was born before they were married. I have a right to kill him. Do you hear? I have a right to--" "Don't you know it would be murder? Cold-blooded murder? No! You will have to kill me first. Do you understand? I shall not move an inch. I am not going to let you do something you will regret to the end of your life. Put it down! Drop that gun, I say! If there is to be any killing, I will do it,--not you!" She closed her eyes. Her tense body relaxed. The two men, watching her with bated breath and vastly different emotions, could almost visualize the struggle that was going on within her. At last the long rifle barrel was lowered; as the muzzle touched the ground she opened her eyes. Slowly they went from Kenneth to the man who crouched behind him. She gazed at the bloody face as if seeing it for the first time. The woman in her revolted at the spectacle. After a moment of indecision, she turned with a shudder and walked toward the house, dragging the rifle by the stock. As she was about to mount the steps she paused to send a swift glance over her shoulder and then, obeying the appeal in Kenneth's eyes, reluctantly, even carefully, leaned the gun against a post and disappeared through the door. "Stand up!" ordered Gwynne, turning to Lapelle. "I ought to kill you myself. It's in my heart to do so. Do you know what you've done to her?" Barry drew himself up, his fast swelling, bloodshot eyes filled with a deadly hatred. His voice was thick and unsteady. "You'd better kill me while you have the chance," he said. "Because, so help me God, I'm going to kill you for this." "Go!" thundered the other, his hands twitching. "If you don't, I'll strangle the life out of you." Lapelle drew back, quailing before the look in Kenneth's eyes. He saw murder in them. "You didn't give me a chance, damn you," he snarled. "You hit me before I had a chance to--" "I wish to God I had hit you sooner,--and that I had killed you," grated Kenneth. "You will wish that with all your soul before I am through with you," snarled Barry. "Oh, I'm not afraid of you! I know the whole beastly story about your father and that--"