The forge remained a dark blot in the corner.

A new chisel, lying upon the earthen floor, became a bar of yellow light.
Slim's eyes went to the anvil and clung there in a widening stare.

His hands, white and soft when his gloves were off, drew up convulsively into fighting fists, and as he stood looking, the cords swelled and stood out upon his thick neck.

For years he had hated Dunk Whittaker-- The Happy Family, with rare good sense, had not hesitated to turn the white house into an impromptu hospital.

They knew that if the Little Doctor and Chip and the Old Man had been at home Happy Jack would have been taken unquestioningly into the guest chamber--which was a square, three-windowed room off the big livingroom.