y down the flashing barrel into the madman's eyes.

"Who started this work of destruction?" he cried--"You--You---Do you
hear me? And I've been commanded by God Almighty to end this trouble
by ending you!"

As Stuart held the glittering eyes levelled at him across the
blue-black barrel he could see the man's nervous and uncertain finger
twitching at the trigger.

For the first time in his conscious existence he felt the stinging
anguish of physical fear. Never had life--life for its own sake with
strong sound limbs and alert mind--seemed so sweet. At the first touch
of fear his tall body had suddenly stiffened and the pallor of death
shrouded his face. The next instant came the conscious shame and horror
of the moment's cowardice. The crowd that watched the tragic situation
had not known, but he knew and it was enough. His face flushed red and
his deep set eyes began to sparkle with anger, the red animal-anger of
power wrought to insane fury. Every nerve and muscle and sinew quivered
with the desire to kill, a consuming passionate desperate lust! His
fingers closed involuntarily as the claws of a beast and he drew his
breath with trembling intensity.

For one brief instant he hated all men. Not merely the fool who had
shamed his soul with fear but all the mob of hissing howling brutes
that surged about him and all the millions like them that crawl over
the earth.

There was a pause of only a few seconds while these ideas flashed with
the vividness of lightning through his imagination. The crowd noted no
pause of any kind. His action seemed instantaneous.

With a sudden panther-like spring he leaped across the five feet which
separated him from the man who held the revolver. His left hand gripped
the weapon and threw it into the air as it was fired while his right
hand closed on the throat of his assailant. With his knee against the
man's breast he hurled him down the steps, wrenched the revolver from
his hand and with a single blow knocked him into insensibility.

[Illustration: "He hurled him down the steps"]

The spell was broken. The mob that hated him saw their chance. A yell
of rage swept them, and a dozen men sprang toward him with curses. For
a moment he held his own, when suddenly a well-directed blow from
behind knocked him down.

He sprang to his feet instantly, climbed on the shoulders of the mass
of enraged men who pressed on him from every direction and attempted to
walk on their heads toward the