MR. Y. How can you say that?
MR. X. Wait until the sheriff comes and you will know. [Mr. Y. rises.] Do you see? The first time I mentioned the sheriff in connection with the thunderbolt, you wanted to run then, too; and when a man has been in that prison he never wants to go to the windmill hill every day to look at it, or put himself behind a window-pane to—to conclude, you have served one sentence, but not another. That's why you were so difficult to get at. [Pause.]
MR. Y. [Completely defeated]. May I go now?
MR. X. Yes, you may go now.
MR. Y. [Getting his things together]. Are you angry with me?
MR. X. Yes. Would you like it better if I pitied you?
MR. Y. [Wrathfully]. Pity! Do you consider yourself better than I am?
MR. X. Of course I do, as I am better. I am more intelligent than you are, and of more worth to the common weal.
MR. Y. You are pretty crafty, but not so crafty as I am. I stand in check myself, but, nevertheless, the next move you can be checkmated.
MR. X. [Fixing Mr. Y. with his eye]. Shall we have another bout? What evil do you intend to do now?