“Much more than you imagine,” retorted Peter. “I’ve got your record, McKail, and I’ve had it for three years. I’ve stood by, until now; but the time has come when I’m going to have a hand in this thing. And you’re not going to get your freedom by dragging this woman’s name through a divorce-court. If 369 there’s any dragging to be done, it’s your carcass that’s going to be tied to the tail-board!”
Duncan stood studying him with a face cheese-colored with hate.
“Aren’t you rather double-crossing yourself?” he mocked.
“I’m not thinking about myself,” said Peter.
“Then what’s prompting all the heroics?” demanded Duncan.
“For two years and more, McKail,” Peter cried out as he stepped closer to the other man, “you’ve given this woman a pretty good working idea of hell. And I’ve seen enough of it. It’s going to end. It’s got to end. But it’s not going to end the way you’ve so neatly figured out!”
“Then how do you propose to end it?” Duncan demanded, with a sort of second-wind of composure. But his face was still colorless.
“You’ll see when the time comes,” retorted Peter.
“You may have rather a long wait,” taunted Duncan.
“I have waited a number of years,” answered the other man, with a dignity which sent a small thrill up and down my spine. “And I can wait a number of years more if I have to.” 370