"Hell's fire!" snarled Singleton; "won't anything make you fight! There's that girl there—Ruth Hamlin. You think she's got a right to be proud as she is. Lawler, you don't know her; you don't know what's goin' on over there at the Two Bar—Hamlin's ranch. This here school teachin' of hers is only a blind—a blind, I tell you! A blind for other things that her an'—"
Ruth's sharp, protesting cry was drowned in a sodden swish as Lawler struck. His fist had shot upward with the weight of his body behind it, landing fairly on the point of Singleton's chin, snapping his teeth shut with a clack.
Singleton's head went back, his body rose from the floor. He came down with his knees unjointed, his head sagging on his chest; came down in a heap and tumbled forward upon his face, his arms limp, the fingers slowly spreading.
For an instant Lawler stood over him, pale, his eyes agleam. Then when Singleton did not move he turned to Ruth, smiling faintly.
"Go home, now, Ruth, before this beast comes to life. Go out and send the children away. I've got something to say to Singleton."
Ruth looked intently at him, saw there would be no use of pleading with him, and walked to the door, dragging the children away from it, telling them to go home.
Jimmy Singleton, terrorized by the thing that had happened to his father, needed no urging. He ran, whimpering, toward town, the other children following.
Ruth went to the shed where she kept her pony, threw saddle and bridle on him and led him to the step, where she usually mounted.
The door of the schoolhouse was closed. Trailing the reins over the pony's head, she ran to one of the windows—a small one in the center of the side wall, dust-begrimed, with one pane of glass missing.
Peering within, she saw Singleton sitting up, staring dazedly around, supporting himself with his hands, an expression of almost laughable, bewilderment on his face.