Page:By Sanction of Law.pdf/199

 back bared to the waist was a brown skinned girl, crying and groaning, blood running down her back. At her side, with coat off and sleeves rolled up was a man with a ministerial vestee and collar on, swinging a lash.

"I'll teach you to steal," he puffed vehemently as he swung the lash again. At the swish of the whip a large welt stood up from the girl's back, from which blood began to flow anew.

Bennet was ahead of Dr. Tansey, this time, his eyes blazing. He was just in time to catch the lash as it descended for another stroke. He only caught part of it, however. His grip had been in the middle. The tapering end of the lash wound itself about Bennet's shoulder with just a tip touching his flesh, raising a lump and firing his soul with madness. He jerked the whip from the man's hand, the force of the pull throwing the lasher off his balance and toward Bennet. As the man fell toward him, Bennet's fist shot out and caught the man flush on the jaw. He went down.

"I've seen about all of this I can stand, you brute," he growled, his voice subdued with pent up emotion. "Stand up and take some of your own medicine."

The man began to grovel at his feet, his senses clearing enough to make him realize that if he stood he would be struck down again. Bennet stood over him, feet extended, poised for another blow.

"Don't hit me. Don't hit me," he begged. "I'm a minister. I just wanted to teach her a lesson—not to steal."