ely-balanced
trigger that would send a bullet crashing into the ruffian's brain? So
intense was his excitement that he almost staggered under its
influence. For the first time in his life an overmastering passion for
revenge, for retribution, took possession of him, and carried him out
of himself. Smooth, clear, and bright as the lovely stream that
watered the Oakdene meadows had been the current of his life hitherto.
To few boys had the lines fallen in pleasanter places. Yet this happy
fortune had not rendered him unmanly or irresolute. He was capable of
conceiving and carrying out any purpose that lay within the range of a
boy's powers. The Copeland courage and the Copeland determination were
his inheritance.

Now never before had he been brought into contact with any one who had
so roused his repulsion or hatred as Evil-Eye. Not only because of his
hideous appearance and threatened violence, but because of Ben's dark
hints and his own suspicions as to Evil-Eye being no better than a
murderer, the very depths of his nature were stirred, and he felt as
though it would be but right to inflict summary vengeance at the first
opportunity.

Trembling with these strange, wild thoughts, he held the pistol still
pointed at the port-hole, and unconsciously pressing upon the trigger,
there was a sharp report, which caused Prince, dozing comfortably by
the fire, to spring to his feet with a startled growl, following the
crash of broken glass, as the bullet pierced the port-lid.

Almost at the same moment the door was thrown roughly open and Evil-Eye
entered the room.

"What are you doing with my pistols?" he cried, his face aflame with
rage, as he strode toward Eric.

Scarce knowing what he was doing, Eric snatched up the other pistol and
darted around the big table, so that it would form a barrier between
himself and Evil-Eye. His hand was perfectly steady now, and levelling
the pistol at his assailant, he said in a firm tone,---

"Let me alone, or I'll shoot you."

With a fearful oath the ruffian drew a pistol from his belt, and in
another moment blood would undoubtedly have been shed, had not Ben
Harden rushed in through the open door, and snatching Evil-Eye's pistol
out of his hand, thrown it to the other end of the room, where it went
off without harm to any one.

"You scoundrel!" he roared. "If you don't leave that boy alone, I will
break every bone in your body."

At first Evil-Eye was so completely ta