Not content wi' puttin' poor Vict'ry Vane out o' the world, you hev
planned ter kill my sister, yer true and lawful wife. I'll watch ye thar,
hossfly--"
"Scoundrel!"
With the exclamation, Barkswell leaped with the fury of a tiger at the
throat of the stalwart tramp.
The hour had come for a complete triumph or none.
"Murder!"
This was the cry that escaped the lips of the wounded tramp.
Well might he give utterance to the cry.
There was murder gleaming in the lurid eyes of the villain, Barkswell.
Although Perry Jounce was weak from the effects of the shot that had
plowed a furrow through his scalp, his assailant did not permit him to
have a fair show.
The tramp had been very indiscreet in telling what he did to his wicked
brother-in-law.
"Mercy!" finally gasped Jounce, when he found that he had not strength
sufficient to combat the man who was at his throat with murderous intent.
"You shall not live to thwart me, Perry Jounce," hissed Barkswell, as he
pressed his companion in crime to the floor, and crushed his knee down
upon his breast.
"Mercy!" again gasped Jounce.
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