the mountains, from Summit City south. How about it, Joe?"
"It strikes me, Steele," returned Embry, in that slow, smooth voice of his which gave no hint of his emotions, "that you have a way of picking a time for a show of temper when there is a lady present. If you care to look me up—"
"When I want a man I go find him," snapped Steele. "And I don't care who is present. Did you say that about me?"
"Suppose I did?" came quietly from Embry.
"Then you are a liar, and you will either eat your words right now or I am going to beat the eternal daylights out of you!"
"Yes?" said Embry tonelessly.
Beatrice, her breath catching, looked from one of them to the other, from Steele's blazing eyes into Embry's dark, smouldering ones, back to Steele's. He was making no windy boast and her sense was electrically pervaded with a clear conception of his purpose; that he would punish his enemy physically and mercilessly was no vain threat. His voice was vibrant with assurance.
At another time not unlike this she had marked the two men critically; now, as never before, she measured them. It seemed to her that the very bigness of Bill Steele was something triumphant and that must triumph. Embry was a big man, heavy and solid, and yet he lacked utterly Steele's superb magnificence. For at that vital moment Beatrice glimpsed in this man who warred against her and who mocked at her prestige
