The minister’s teeth showed. “You shall see, my young friend.”
“Doubtless. But let me tell you one thing; if anything happens to me, my friends will know where to look for the criminal.”
Alcatrante snarled. “Don’t be too sure——”
“If necessary,” continued Orme, “a word to certain persons as to the commission for building warships—Five hundred thousand, is it not? by the new arrangement—in gold——”
Alcatrante, in ungovernable rage, raised his light cane and struck. Orme fended the blow with his arm, then wrenched the cane away and threw it into the street. A swarm of passers-by gathered about them so quickly that in a moment they were the center of a circle.
“You dunce,” said Orme. “Do you want the police?”
“No,” muttered Alcatrante, controlling himself with a great effort. “You are right.” He darted into the crowd at one side, and Orme, quick to take the hint, disappeared in the opposite direction, crossing the street and jumping into an empty cab, which had drawn up in anticipation of a fight.
“To the Rookery,” he ordered, naming the first office-building that came into his head.
“Sure,” said the driver, and away they rattled.
A glance back showed Orme that the crowd was dispersing.