Dane followed the man who was slinking along after the girl, and for a while he was able to keep him in view.  Then he disappeared among the trees, and as Dane stepped quickly forward so as not to miss him altogether, a sudden cry of fear fell upon his ears.  That it came from the girl he was well aware; telling plainly that she was in need of help.  He leaped at once to her assistance, and in another minute he saw her struggling in the arms of her assailant, and trying to free herself from his grasp.  The next instant Dane was by her side, while a blow from the clenched fist of his right hand sent the cowardly villain reeling back among the trees.  Then like a tiger Dane was upon him, his fingers clutching his throat as he pinned him to the ground.  The fallen man fought and struggled desperately to tear away that fearful vise-like grip, but all in vain.  At length his striving ceased, and his body relaxed.  Then Dane unloosened his hold, and looked at the girl.

“Shall I kill him?” he asked.

“No, no!” was the startled reply.  “That would be terrible!”

“But he tried to harm you.  If I kill him, he won’t have a chance to try again.”

“Let him go,” the girl pleaded.  “Perhaps this will teach him a lesson.”

Dane, however, hesitated.  A passionate impulse urged him to make an end of such a cowardly creature.  The spirit of the wild was strong upon him, and his nature craved complete satisfaction.  How could it be otherwise?  Steeped for years in the ways of the wilderness, he had become a part of all that he had seen and heard.  He knew how the beasts of the forest and the monarchs of the air dealt with their prey.  He had at times watched two great bull moose locked in deadly combat, until one had gone down to defeat and death.  And around campfires at night he had listened to rough men as they related tales of terrible fights, grewsome murders, and sudden deaths.  Everywhere he turned it was the same savage struggle, with only one outcome, the survival of the strongest, and death to the vanquished.

While he thus sat upon the fallen man’s body, reasoning with himself what to do, the girl touched him lightly upon the arm.

“Let him go,” she urged.  “You wouldn’t kill a man when he is down, would you?  That would be cowardly.”

This appeal had an immediate effect, and slowly, though somewhat reluctantly, Dane rose to his feet.

“He deserves to be killed,” he growled.  Then he touched the man with the toe of his right foot.  “Get up, you brute,” he ordered.

This command was at once obeyed.  The defeated assailant scrambled to his feet, and started to move away.  But Dane caught him roughly by the arm, and faced him sharply around.

“Just a word,” he began.  “You get clear this time, you devil, whoever you are.  But if you lay hands on this young woman again I’ll break every bone in your body.  You won’t escape, for I am Dane Norwood, the King’s Arrow, and what I say I mean.  Get out of this now as fast as you can.”