Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. He disappeared after getting my foster sister Traci pregnant. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. Finding remonstrances of no avail, he had recourse to threats; and when threats failed, he adopted more decided measures. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded.
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