His eyes were for
Linton.
"Are you going to apologize?"
"I'll wait until--" began the lawyer, but he got no further.
The Thornton temper had been strained beyond the breaking-point. Harlan
was upon him.
"Bring a dozen!" yelled the Duke after the chairman who had been tugging
at the door, and now escaped.
Linton was tall and muscular, but law-practice is not lumbering. He
struck viciously at Harlan, ducking to and fro with the briskness of the
trained boxer. But the woodsman merely leaped upon him, heedless of his
blows. He bore him down. He drove resistless knees into his shoulders.
He thrust Linton's face against the floor and ground it against the
boards. Then he dragged the limp figure past the cursing Duke toward the
girl. She had fled to a corner, covering her eyes and sobbing in terror.
"D--n you, you'll apologize to the girl who's going to be my wife,"
raved Harlan.
When Presson returned at the head of volunteers the victor was grinding
the bleeding face on the floor once more and Linton was screaming
appeals.
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