The Frenchman fixed his piercing eyes on Merry, saying quietly:
“Wait a little. Let’s talk it over.”
“There is no more to be said.”
“You have what I seek. I have called for it, and I have given the signal.”
“Have you?”
Frank was cool. He had slipped a hand into the side pocket of his coat, and his fingers gripped the butt of his revolver. The coolness of the American youth seemed to anger the other.
“You know I have!” he cried. “If you refuse to give it up, you are false to your trust!”
“If I gave anything to you, I should be false to my trust.”
“Why?”
“Because you are an impostor, a fraud!”