"Well, then, s'pose you kill him," he suggested. "He tried to kill you, so it's better fer you to do it first."
"No, no," the woman protested. "There must be no killing here. Get up, Gabe," she ordered, touching her husband with her foot. "You must be thoroughly ashamed of yourself by this time. Maybe this will knock some sense into your head."
Very reluctantly the defeated man drew himself up to his knees, and then staggered to his feet. His face was swollen where Eben's fists had fallen, and his eyes were wild with fear. He edged away from his antagonist, and kept as close as possible to his wife.
"Don't let him touch me again," he begged. "He's not a human being, but the devil in the form of a man. I never saw anything like him."
"Don't be such a coward," his wife chided. "If you behave yourself he won't hurt you."
"Indeed I won't," Eben agreed. "But look here, Gabe Grimsby, if ye ever lay hands on yer wife agin, an' I hear of it, I'll come an' tear ye to pieces. D'ye call yerself a man to hit a woman, an' her yer wife?"
"But she provoked me," Gabe defended.
"What did she do?"
"She stole my money; that's what she did."
"You're a liar," his wife charged. "It wasn't your money, anyway. I merely took it back to where it belongs."