wanted the place, and, that if I wouldn't vacate peaceably--and he
looked me in the eyes like some great, calm animal.

Though my heart was pounding painfully, against, it seemed, the very
roof of my mouth, I compelled my eyes not to waver, but to look fiercely
into his....

"Are you going to start packing?"

"No, I am not going to start packing."

"I can break your neck with one twist," and he illustrated that feat
with a turn of one large hand in the air.

He came slowly in, head down, as if to pick me up and throw me down.

I waited till he was close, then gave him an upward rip with all my
might, a blow on the forehead that made the blood flow, and staggered
him with consternation. To keep myself still at white heat, I showered
blows on him. To my surprise, he fell back.

"Wait--wait," he protested in a small voice, "I--I was just fooling."

* * * * *

After Vinton left, my blood still pouring through my veins in a
triumphant glow, I sat on the ground by the side of my tent-floor and
composed a poem....

That afternoon Barton's office boy was sent to me, as an emissary of