Its habitual calm broke up as it was wont to do in moments of deep emotion.
It became very evil, as though some demon of hate and jealousy were at work behind it.

The thin lips quivered, the eyes glared, and without spoken word or warning, he lifted the rifle and fired straight at Alan.
The bullet missed him, for the aim was high.

Passing over Alan's head, it cut a neat groove through the hair of the taller Jeekie who was immediately behind him.
Next instant, with a spring like that of a tiger Jeekie was on Aylward.
The weight of his charge knocked him backwards to the ground, and there he lay, pinned fast.
"What for you do that ?" exclaimed the indignant Jeekie.

"What for you shoot through wool of respectable nigger, Sir Robert Aylward, Bart.?
Now I throttle you, you dirty hog-swine.

No Magistrates' Court here in Dwarf Forest," and he began to suit the action to the word.
"Let him go, Jeekie.