“We’ll see who is master here,” he went on.

“Stand back!” I cried.  “Don’t come a step nearer!  If you do, you’ll be sorry for it!”

He paid no attention to my warning, but kept on advancing, raising the cane over his head as he did so.

When he was within three feet of me he aimed a blow at my head.  Had he hit me, I am certain he would have cracked my skull open.

But I was too quick for him, I dodged, and the cane struck the back of the chair.

Before he could recover from his onslaught I hurled the album at him with all force.  It struck him full in the face, and must have loosened several of his teeth, for he put his hand up to his mouth as he reeled over backward.

I was not astonished.  I had accomplished just what I had set out to do.  My one thought now was to make my escape.  How was it to be done?

The key to the door was in the merchant’s pocket, and this I could, not obtain.  The windows were closed, and the blinds drawn down.

I had but an instant to think.  Spluttering to himself, my assailant was endeavoring to rise to his feet.

A hasty glance around the room revealed a door partly hidden by a curtain next the mantelpiece.  Where it led to I did not know, but concluding that any place would be better than to remain in the library, I tried the door, found it open, and slipped out.

“Stop, stop!” roared Mr. Woodward.  “Stop, this instant!”

But I did not stop.  I found myself in the dining room, and at once put the long table between us.

“Don’t you come any nearer,” I called out sharply.  “If you do, it may be at the cost of your life.”

As I spoke I picked up a fancy silver knife that lay on the table.  It had a rough resemblance to a pocket pistol, and gave me the idea of palming it off as such.

“Would you shoot me?” cried the merchant, in sudden terror, as he saw what he supposed was the barrel of a revolver pointed at his head.

“Why shouldn’t I?” was the reply.  “You have no right to detain me.”

“I don’t want to detain you.  I only want to come to a settlement,” he returned lamely.

“And I want nothing more to do with you.  I’ll give you one minute to show me the way to the front door.”

“Yes, but, Strong—­”

“No more talk, if you please.  Do you intend to show me the way out, or shall I fire?”

Then Mr. Aaron Woodward showed what a coward he really was.  He gave a cry of horror and sank completely out of sight.

“Don’t shoot, Strong.  I pray you, take care.  I’ll show you the way out, indeed I will!”

“Well, hurry about it.  I don’t intend to stand any more nonsense.”

“Here, this way.  Please stop pointing that pistol at me; it might go off, you know.”

“Then the sooner you show me the way out, the better for you,” I returned coolly, inwardly amused at his sudden change of manner