Chastity in woman was
to him a thing to joke of--he did not believe that it existed;
for he judged other women by the one he knew best--his
mother. And as he hated her, so he hated them all. He had
doubly hated Barbara Harding since she not only was a
woman, but a woman of the class he loathed.
And so it was strange and inexplicable that the suggestion
of the girl's probable fate should have affected Billy Byrne as
it did. He did not stop to reason about it at all--he simply
knew that he felt a mad and unreasoning rage against the
creatures that had borne the girl away. Outwardly Billy
showed no indication of the turmoil that raged within his
breast.
"We gotta find her, bo," he said to Theriere. "We gotta
find the skirt."
Ordinarily Billy would have blustered about the terrible
things he would do to the objects of his wrath when once he
had them in his power; but now he was strangely quiet--only
the firm set of his strong chin, and the steely glitter of his gray
eyes gave token of the iron resolution within.
Theriere, who had been walking slowly to and fro about
the dead men, now called the others to him.
"Here's their trail," he said. "If it's as plain as that all the
way we won't be long in overhauling them.
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