grotesque or bestial--even this perfect one," and he touched
again the vat, "and thus you would rid yourself of rival suitors.
But no!" he went on in a high, trembling voice. "I shall not be
led to thus compromise myself, and be thwarted in my cherished plan.
Be this one what he may he shall wed my daughter!"

The man had raised himself upon his toes as he reached
his climax--his clenched hand was high above his head--
his voice fairly thundered out the final sentence, and
with the last word he brought his fist down upon the
vat before him. In his eyes blazed the light of
unchained madness.

Von Horn was a brave man, but he shuddered at the
maniacal ferocity of the older man, and shrank back.
The futility of argument was apparent, and he turned
and left the workshop.

Sing Lee was late that night. In fact he did not
return from his fruitless quest for gulls until well
after dark, nor would he vouchsafe any explanation of
the consequent lateness of supper. Nor could he be
found shortly after the evening meal when Virginia
sought him.

Not until the camp was wrapped in the quiet of slumber
did Sing Lee return--stealthy and mysterious--to creep
under cover of a moonless night to the door of the
workshop. How he gained entrance only Sing Lee knows,
but a moment later there was a muffled crash of broken