So upset was Charlie that he was unable to share in the conversation.
He curtly refused a glass when Louise brought a pitcher of buttermilk,
then changed his mind, and ended by choking over the wretched stuff.
The situation was intolerable; his pride was smarting; the others
talked on with unperturbed countenances, ignoring his silence; and his
self-respect required some action in the face of the affront. He
abruptly stood up and announced that he was departing.

In Louise's manner at this news there was no repining that he could
observe. She did not protest. Her words were impersonally pleasant as
ever, but vague; and he perceived that she only half heeded his going;
and that her eyes brightened when once more she turned to her visitor.
This was the final stab. With hatred in his heart and a wicked glitter
in his eyes, Charlie Menocal went down the steps to his automobile,
feeling the need of a victim, preferably the engineer. Bryant had
insulted him at the ford; he was attempting to rob him and his father;
he had insolently threatened the elder Menocal; he stopped at nothing;
and now he was intruding here and deceiving Louise with his arrogant
pretentions. He came on Dave, standing beside the car and examining
the latch of a door.

"Keep your hands off that!" he snapped. At the same time he gave the
boy a cuff that sent him sprawling. "That will teach you!"

In two bounds Lee Bryant was at the spot. He caught the still-extended
hand in an iron grip.

"You miserable coward! Striking a boy!" he said, harshly. "Feeling
that you must vent your spite on someone, you pick on this unoffending
lad. If you ever raise so much as a finger against him again----"

"Let him keep away from my machine! And drop my wrist!" Charlie
Menocal snarled.

"And you leave him alone hereafter, in any case," Lee warned, shoving
the speaker away in disgust. Then he helped Dave to rise.

Charlie straightened his disarranged tie and coat with trembling
fingers. He could scarcely retain his rage; his body shook all over;
his foot slipped twice when he sought to mount into his car. Leaning
forward from his seat, he shook a finger in Bryant's face, exclaiming,
"You'll get what's coming to you! Like your damned dog!" His face was
entirely viperish. His finger came within an inch of the engineer's
nose. His words carried a furious hiss.

Then he whirled his car about and went tearing down the lane with
exhaust wide open and roaring.

When Bry