Eben's only reply was to seize Gabe by his coat collar, and yank him suddenly forward. Then he shook him as a dog would shake a rat, while Grimsby filled the house with his howls of distress. He was a veritable coward at heart, and in Eben's hands he was as helpless as a child.
"Ye'll kill me, ye'll kill me!" he wailed. "Fer God's sake, let up."
"I want to kill ye," his captor roared. "Yer not worth livin'. Take that, an' that, an' that."
Eben had lost complete control of himself now. The fury of his passion was let loose, and he shook and thumped his victim unmercifully. Grimsby's fear increased to terror, and he made frantic efforts to free himself. He even fought and bit, but all in vain. Eben held him firm, and at last pinning him with his body upon the floor he began to deal blow after blow upon the victim's face and head.
There is hardly the shadow of a doubt but that Eben would have killed Gabe there and then, so intense was his rage. But at this critical moment Mrs. Grimsby caught him by the arm and attempted to pull him away from her husband.
"Don't kill him, don't kill him," she pleaded. "Be careful what you are doing."
This appeal brought Eben somewhat to his senses, and his hands relaxed.
He hesitated for a few seconds, and then rose slowly to his feet.
"He ought to be killed," he growled. "He's a brute."
"I know, I know," the woman agreed. "But you mustn't do it. It would be murder, and you would be hung."
A grim smile overspread Eben's face, as he stepped back, and folded his arms.