ting me even for past hurts, too--damn her!"

Like many another blindly passionate man, Crothers hit out in the dark
with what weapons he had and landed a blow where he least expected, the
recoil of which stunned and downed him.

CHAPTER XXII

Crothers was a man who approached his ends by the use of his better
qualities. The man whom the children of the factory shrank before in
trembling fear, the man whom the men fawned before, and the women
loathed and hated in dumb acquiescence, was not the man who years ago
crept around the desk in his office to implore a kiss from "little
Miss." Crothers could smile and speak courteously; his hard eyes could
soften and attract, and there was no doubt as to his business capacity
and positive genius in bargaining.

With a more or less clear idea as to the outcome of his desires,
Crothers was perfectly explicit as to his desires. He wanted to get
Sandy Morley away, permanently away, from Lost Hollow. Could he
achieve this, his business might prosper as in old days, his command of
the community gain power and his future be secure. If he could bring
this desired consummation to pass, by harming Sandy and, incidentally,
Cynthia Walden and Marcia Lowe, so much the better. They were
disturbing elements in the place and nothing was secure, not even the
suppression of the women and the degeneracy of the men.

"In the family and the town," Crothers had said once to Tod Greeley,
"there must always be a head; a final voice, or there will be hell."

"Who do you want to boss your family and town?" Greeley had innocently
asked. Crothers had not committed himself; he believed actions should
speak louder than words!

Seeking about for a beginning of his campaign to turn Sandy Morley from
his course, Crothers landed upon Lans Treadwell.

Treadwell could not always be at Trouble Neck while Sandy and Martin
were at the factory-building back in the woods; reading palled upon
Lans, too, and the bad cooking for his private meals began to attract
his attention. That he did not resent anything in his friend's home
and make his farewell bow was characteristic of Lansing Treadwell. He
was thoroughly good-natured, inordinately selfish, and was consumed by
deep-rooted conviction that Sandy Morley owed him a great deal and that
he was conferring a mighty honour upon the young man by accepting his
hospitality. No doubt arose as to his right in sharing Sandy's home,
but as time went on he