Trent had seen as much as this, when he felt the smart of a sudden blow upon the cheek, the picture was snatched from his hand, and Monty--his face convulsed with anger--glowered fiercely upon him.
"You infernal young blackguard! You impertinent meddling blockhead! How dare you presume to look at that photograph! How dare you, sir! How dare you!" Trent was too thoroughly astonished to resent either the blow or the fierce words.

He looked up into his aggressor's face in blank surprise.
"I only looked at it," he muttered.

"It was lying on the floor." "Looked at it! You looked at it! Like your confounded impertinence, sir! Who are you to look at her! If ever I catch you prying into my concerns again, I'll shoot you--by Heaven I will!" Trent laughed sullenly, and, having finished eating, lit his pipe.
"Your concerns are of no interest to me," he said shortly; "keep 'em to yourself--and look here, old 'un, keep your hands off me! I ain't a safe man to hit let me tell you.

Now sit down and cool off! I don't want any more of your tantrums." Then there was a long silence between the two men.

Monty sat where Trent had been earlier in the night at the front of the open hut, his eyes fixed upon the ever-rising moon, his face devoid of intelligence, his eyes dim.