I will fling them into an abyss, and I will laugh when I see them writhing in the sand at my feet!" "Fool!" cried Setchem, beside herself.

"I am but a woman, and have often blamed myself for being soft and weak; but as sure as I am faithful to your dead father--who you are no more like than a bramble is like a palm-tree--so surely will I tear my love for you out of my heart if you--if you--Now I see! now I know! Answer me-murderer! Where are the seven arrows with the wicked words which used to hang here?
Where are the arrows on which you had scrawled 'Death to Mena ?'" With these words Setchem breathlessly started forward, but the pioneer drew back as she confronted him, as in his youthful days when she threatened to punish him for some misdemeanor.

She followed him up, caught him by the girdle, and in a hoarse voice repeated her question.

He stood still, snatched her hand angrily from his belt, and said defiantly: "I have put them in my quiver--and not for mere play.

Now you know." Incapable of words, the maddened woman once more raised her hand against her degenerate son, but he put back her arm.
"I am no longer a child," he said, "and I am master of this house.