"By other Ruthvens I suppose you mean yourself."
"I am one of them."
"Are you so anxious to get hold of my aunt's plantation?"
"I don't want to see my aunt waste it on such a low upstart as you!"
Jack's eyes flashed fire, and riding close to St. John he held up his little riding whip.
"You shan't call me an upstart!" he ejaculated. "Take it back, or I'll hit you with this!"
"You won't dare to touch me!" howled St. John in a rage. "You are an upstart, and worse, to my way of thinking."
Scarcely had the words left his lips when Jack brought down the riding whip across the young man's shoulders and neck, leaving a livid red mark behind.
"Oh!" howled the spendthrift, and gave a jerk backward on the reins, which brought his horse up on his hind legs. "How dare you! I'll—I'll kill you for that!"
"Do you take it back or not?" went on Jack, raising the whip again.