s in the ascendant. His long dislike of
Garland had come to a head. And yet there was Garland seated in his
house with Alice Page, while he was forced to walk in the night. It
amounted to that in his estimation.

At last he turned back, in no better temper. It was late, and he was
sure that Garland had gone. But as he came to the road leading to the
house he saw figures black in the moonlight approaching. Just then he
was in no mood to meet any one. An irrigation ditch bordered by willows
paralleled the road. He jumped the ditch and, concealed by the willows,
waited till whoever it was should go by.

It was Alice Page, and Garland, leading his horse. Opposite him they
halted. Snatches of conversation blurred by the gurgle of running water
came to his ears. Garland moved closer to her. Suddenly he caught her in
his arms. She strained back, pushing him away, but he kissed her, and at
that moment Angus leaped the ditch, landing beside them. The suddenness
of his appearance startled them. The horse snorted and pulled back.
Garland released Alice with an oath and turned to face the intruder.

"It's you, is it?" he said angrily.

"You had better get out of here," Angus told him, "and be quick about
it."

But Garland, being angry, forgot his prudence. He was not going to be
ordered off by a boy, especially before Alice Page.

"Be civil, you young fool!" he said. "I've taken enough from you
to-night."

"Will you get on your horse and pull out?" Angus demanded between his
teeth.

"When I get good and ready, and not before," Garland replied.

Without another word Angus went for him. Garland was older, heavier and
presumably stronger, and furious as Angus was he felt that probably he
was in for a licking. But he went in hard, like a forlorn hope, and like
a forlorn hope he intended to do as much damage as he could.

Garland tried to fend him off with a push, and failing, hit. But his
blow glanced from Angus' head and the latter slashed up under the ribs
with a vicious right hand, and was amazed at the depth his fist sank in
the body and the rasping gasp it brought forth. Angus' knowledge of
offensive and defensive was not great. But at school he had engaged in
various rough-and-tumble affairs and one winter a lithe young fellow
hired by the elder Mackay had shown him how to hold his hands. But these
things were quite forgotten for the moment. Like his claymore-wielding
ancestors, his one idea was to get to close quarte