Hugging the dunes closer, he approached the house from the rear. The big door was shut and a bit of matting had been tacked over the one window to deaden the light. This was why the patch of red was dull. He stood now so near the outside planking that he could hear the laughter and talk of those within. By this time the wind had risen to half a gale and the moan on the outer bar could be heard in the intervals of the pounding surf. The captain crept under the eaves of the roof and listened. He wanted to be sure of Bart's voice before he acted.
At this instant a sudden gust of wind burst in the big door, extinguishing the light of the lantern, and Bart's voice rang out:
"Stay where you are, boys! Don't touch the cards. I know the door, and can fix it; it's only the bolt that's slipped."
As Bart passed out into the gloom the captain darted forward, seized him with a grip of steel, dragged him clear of the door, and up the sand-dunes out of hearing. Then he flung him loose and stood facing the cowering boy.
"Now stand back and keep away from me, for I'm afraid I'll kill you!"
"What have I done?" cringed Bart, shielding his face with his elbow as if to ward off a blow. The suddenness of the attack had stunned him.
"Don't ask me, you whelp, or I'll strangle you. Look at me! That's what you been up to, is it?"
Bart straightened himself, and made some show of resistance. His breath was coming back to him.
"I haven't done anything—and if I did—"
"You lie! Martha's back from Trenton and Lucy told her. You never thought of me. You never thought of that sister of hers whose heart you've broke, nor of the old woman who nursed her like a mother. You thought of nobody but your stinkin' self. You're not a man! You're a cur! a dog! Don't move! Keep away from me, I tell ye, or I may lose hold of myself."