ewed wild rage in Martin's soul, stirred the elemental instinct that
makes the male fight to keep his mate. For Carew was also staring at
Ruth, much the same as Martin had been staring. His face was hungry,
avid, with desire--desire for the wonderful woman before him. His very
soul was in his burning gaze, and it was an ugly, bestial soul.

The man was mad--mad with love, insane with a heedless, reckless
passion for the girl. Martin could well understand now Wild Bob
Carew's turbulent and persistent wooing of Ruth. His whole ruthless,
lawless nature was dominated by his evil passion; for so long balked,
his love had fed wildly upon itself till now it was his master.

Yet, in that brief, illuminating moment when Martin regarded the
other's passion-heated countenance, he beheld something that soothed
his rage, checked his panic, and made his heart suddenly swell with
pride and tenderness for his love. For behind the lustful glistening
in Carew's eyes there lurked a shadow of fear.

Carew was afraid of the girl! Martin, with the lover's insight,
discerned and interpreted that lurking shadow. For Carew's fear was
bred of man's nature, and made strong by the intensity of his wild
emotion; the fear was a vicious nature shamed, an impure love abashed,
by the virgin goodness of the woman.

The fleeting glance Martin had of the conflict in Carew's mind conveyed
meaningful information to his own love-sharpened senses. Carew was
baffled by the girl.

It was Ichi who interrupted the tense silence that followed Ruth's
entry. He beckoned to Yip, and then bowed low before Ruth.

"But, miss, will you not be seated?" he said.

Charley Bo Yip left his work at the table and brought a chair, placing
it, at the Jap's direction, directly opposite Martin, but several feet
distant.

Ruth sat down, ignoring Ichi, but smiling an acknowledgment of the
service to the impassive Chinaman. Her hand, Martin noticed, brushed
against Yip's hand as she took her seat. Yip returned to his labors
and immediately left the cabin with a tray-load of dishes.

Martin's speech at last broke through the host of emotions and
impressions that had swarmed upon him during the past few moments.
Ruth's eyes were on him again. For a moment there was a swift, though
broken, conversation.

"Oh, Ruth, how is it with you? Have they----"

"Safe, Martin. And you--oh, the beasts! Your arms!"

"Nothing, dear. Captain Dabney----"

"Alive--unconsci