with a decided effort controlled his indignation and also returned to his chair.
And then Plunkett with the spring of a tiger, leaped around the corner of the table and snapped handcuffs on the paralyzed Morgan’s wrists.
“Hound-lover and woman-killer!” he cried; “get ready to meet your God.”
When Bridger had finished I asked him:
“Did he get the right man?”
“He did,” said the Consul.
“And how did he know?” I inquired, being in a kind of bewilderment.
“When he put Morgan in the dory,” answered Bridger, “the next day to take him aboard the Pajaro, this man Plunkett stopped to shake hands with me and I asked him the same question.
“‘Mr. Bridger,’ said he, ‘I’m a Kentuckian, and I’ve seen a great deal of both men and animals. And I never yet saw a man that was overfond of horses and dogs but what was cruel to women.’”
