She evidently regarded his touch as pollution, and again screamed lustily.
“See here; don’t be so techy. I ain’t gwine ter hurt yer.”
“Father!” cried the terrified girl, shrinking from the wretch.
Somers would have fired, but he feared the report and the death of the ruffian before her face would be too great a shock for the lady. She was frightened, but she seemed to have perfect control of herself.
“Say, doxy, won’t yer fotch on the whiskey?” continued Skinley; and again he attempted to seize the arm of the lady, who fled before him.
“Father!” screamed she again.
Somers stepped into the room; at the same instant an elderly gentleman rushed in by a door on the opposite side of the apartment.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE HOUSE OF THE UNION MAN.
