“Don’t you think it will be best for you to keep away from me altogether?”
“I shall please myself about that.”
“You ought to be tarred and feathered, finally skinned, have your flesh removed, and walk about in your bones.”
“Perhaps you think that very funny?”
“Not at all. It would be grim and real.”
Hunston carelessly lighted a cigar.
At the same time he kept a firm hold on his revolver.
“What do you think of the weather?” he asked.
“You will find it hot, if you don’t get away from here.”
“Not so sultry as the place I intend to send you to some of these days.”