"Stand back, I say, or you'll get a taste o' _this_."

He displayed a huge knife, the same with which he had threatened Bordine
on a former occasion.

"Scoundrel!"

"It won't do no good to sling words. Rans, I ain't afeard of em."

For several minutes the two stood glaring at each other with glittering
eyes and gleaming teeth.

"Rans Vane, I swore I'd git even with ye fur all you did agin' me and
mine ten year ago. I reckin you're gittin' a leetle o' the sufferin--"

"Stop," hoarsely.

"No I won't. I want ye ter know that I hain't forgot. I know'd you'n the
gal came West arter the ole man died, but I didn't know whar. I've been a
tramp fur a year, and I 'lowed I'd run onter ye sometime, but 'twas all
unexpected when I seed the gal t'other day."

"And you murdered her, murdered my sister?"

"Wal, 'twould a-b'en justice ef I had."

"Oh, you wretch--"

"'Twont do no good to call names, pard; they never hurted anybody yet 'at
I knows of," sneered the tramp, still holding his knife ready for instant