Carried away by the violence of his passion he raised his heavy hand to strike the child down at his feet.
Had he done so, the man would have had to reckon with three furious lads, for all of them were ready to leap forward and finish him as he deserved by forcing him to run the gauntlet of their shot guns.
The fire leaped up into a fierce blaze at that moment, as if desirous of allowing the angry man to plainly see the white face of his daughter, as she stood there, bravely facing him, with words from her mother about saving him, on her lips, and a look of calm resignation set upon her face.
It was a tableau for about ten seconds, with the brute’s hand raised aloft, and the child standing there, looking straight into his eyes.
Crawley simply could not stand it. Perhaps he saw again the look that had been upon her mother’s face the last time he had struck her, before she died; a smile that doubtless had haunted the guilty wretch ever since.
Shaking his ugly head, and drawing a long breath, he threw her from him and turning, strode away.
Dolph sighed.
He felt relieved, and yet in a measure disappointed, for just then when his blood was up, it seemed to the boy that the problem of little Sallie’s future could best be decided by energetic action on the part of himself and his chums.
But it was not to be.