This was not an eligible abode for a medical practitioner; but the young doctor had not been able to settle himself eligibly since his father's death; and wishing to put what constraint he could upon his brother, had so located himself.

To this farm-house came Roger Scatcherd one sultry summer evening, his anger gleaming from his bloodshot eyes, and his rage heightened to madness by the rapid pace at which he had run from the city, and by the ardent spirits which were fermenting within him.
At the very gate of the farm-yard, standing placidly with his cigar in his mouth, he encountered Henry Thorne.

He had thought of searching for him through the whole premises, of demanding his victim with loud exclamations, and making his way to him through all obstacles.

In lieu of that, there stood the man before him.
"Well, Roger, what's in the wind ?" said Henry Thorne.
They were the last words he ever spoke.

He was answered by a blow from the blackthorn.