He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. Too much blood has been shed already. I have just come from him. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack.
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