his shoulders and standing
out over his load like a lady's hoopskirts, bobbed down the path and
was gone.

Randy was glad to be alone. He was glad to get wet, he was glad of the
roar and of the tumult which matched the tumult in his soul.

Somehow he had never dreamed of this--that somebody would come into
Becky's life and take her away----

Nellie Custis shivered and whined. She hated thunder-storms. Randy sat
down on the step and she crept close to him. He laid his hand on her
head and fear left her--as fear had left Becky in the presence of
Dalton.

After that the boy and the dog sat like statues, looking out, and in
those tense and terrible moments a new spirit was born in Randolph
Paine. Hitherto he had let life bring him what it would. He had scarcely
dared hope that it would bring him Becky. But now he knew that if he
lost her he would face--chaos----

Well, he would not lose her. Or if he did, it would not be to let her
marry a man like Dalton. Surely she wouldn't. She _couldn't_---- But
there had been that light in her eyes, that flame in her cheek--that
lack of fear--Dalton's air of assurance, the way she had turned to him.

"Oh, God," he said suddenly, out loud, "don't let Dalton have her."

He was shaken by an emotion which bent his head to his knees. Nellie
Custis pressed close against him and whined.

"He shan't have her, Nellie. He shan't----"

He burned with the thought of Dalton's look of triumph. Dalton who had
carried Becky off, and had left him with Kemp and a Canton teapot.

He recalled Kemp's words. "After it things seem a bit small, sir."

Well, it shouldn't be small for him. It had seemed so big--over there.
So easy to--carry on.

If he only had a fighting chance. If he had only a half of Dalton's
money. A little more time in which to get on his feet.

But in the meantime here was Dalton--with his money, his motors, and his
masterfulness. And his look of triumph----

In a sudden fierce reaction he sprang to his feet. He stood in the
doorway as if defying the future. "Nobody shall take her away from me,"
he said, "she's mine----"

His arms were folded over his chest, his wet black locks almost hid his
eyes. So might some young savage have stood in the long ago, sending his
challenge forth to those same hills.

CHAPTER V

LITTLE SISTER

I

It is one thing, however, to fling a challenge to the hills, and another
to live up to the high moment. Looking at it afterwards