His voice was swept up into the roar of rage which had given him his name of the old mountain-lion of the north. He came stepping over poor Barbee's body, thrusting by Steve, towering over the door of the cave.
"Hold back," commanded Steve queerly. "He's in there. But he's got it on us. We've got to promise to let him go!"
"Let him go!" shouted the old man, his big bulk seeming actually to quiver with rage. "After all he's done, let him go? By the Lord, Stephen Packard, if you're that sort of a man——"
"She is in there with him," said Steve heavily. "Terry is in there. Don't you see?"
"Terry? That Temple girl? What have we to do——"
"In the first place," cried Steve sharply, "she's a girl and he's a brute. In the second place, she is the next Mrs. Packard and I won't have Blenham pawing over her!"
His grandfather stared at him, long and keenly. Then he turned away and called out commandingly—
"Blenham, come out of that!"
Blenham jeered at him.
"And be shot down like a dog? There's a girl in here, Packard. Young Packard is gone on her; he wants to marry her. An' unless you an' him give your word to let me go, I'm goin' to jam a gun at her head an' blow her brains out. An' I'll get him as I come out; an' I'll get you."