The hay in the corner field had all been loaded, and the teamster was stooping for the reins, when the raucous honk of an auto caused him to pause and look toward the road.
"It's Ben an' the girls now," he exclaimed. "Ye'd better open the gate."
"Oh, I guess they will get through all right," Douglas replied.
"No, ye'd better go," the teamster urged. "Ben'll be as mad as the devil if ye don't. If ye won't, then I'll have to git down an' do it. There, he's tootin' his horn agin. He's pretty mad, I can tell ye that."
Carrying his fork over his shoulder, Douglas walked deliberately across the field toward the gate. He did not wish to hurry, as he wanted to see how angry Ben could become, and what he would do.
"Get a move on there, you lazy devil!" Ben shouted. "Didn't you hear the horn?"
Douglas had almost reached the gate, when he suddenly stopped and stared at the man in the car. He had seen that face before only for a few seconds beneath the electric light at Long Wharf on the waterfront. But he would have known it anywhere, for it had been indelibly impressed upon his memory. So Ben Stubbles was the contemptible coward who had pushed that woman into the water and left her to her fate! He had often longed to come face to face with that man, and he had planned what he would do when they met. But here he was before him, haughty and impudent, Nell's lover, and the son of the autocrat of Rixton.
"What in h—— are you staring at?" Ben demanded. "Didn't you ever see human beings before? Open the gate, and be damned quick about it, too."
The blood surged madly through Douglas' veins, and to relieve his feelings he clutched the gate and tore it open. The occupants of the car were greatly amused at his alacrity, and attributed it to fear.
"That stirred your stumps, all right, didn't it?" Ben sneered, as the car lurched past and then sped up the drive-way.