“All right!” he said, his voice being husky with anger. “I’ll make you sorry for it. I have said all along that I was not done with you.”
“The best thing you can do is to get out of Belfast and this State in a hurry.”
“Oh, I’m not frightened!”
“I may swear out another warrant against you.”
“Go ahead!”
“If I do, I can shove you. I have witnesses.”
“Your own gang, and they will swear to anything you want ’em to. Let go—let go, I say! Take your hands off!”
“Steady!” and Frank again pinned him against the wall, despite his struggles, holding the man with an ease that astonished the witnesses. “I will let you go when I am ready—not before. I am not done talking to you.”
Flynn’s anger was terrible to see. His eyes glared and he actually frothed at the mouth. At that moment he looked as if he longed to annihilate Merry.
The fellow stopped struggling, but suddenly he drew something from beneath his coat—something that flashed.