“Then we’ll expel him in disgrace from the club.”
“That sounds better, but it isn’t enough. Just step out of the room, all of you, and leave him to me. While you’re outside, you had better call an ambulance for him.”
“I warn you not to offer me personal violence,” said Darleton, his lips quivering and his voice unsteady.
“You warn us, you cur!” snarled one, shaking his fist under the rascal’s nose. “Why, do you know what you deserve and what you would get in some places? You deserve to be lynched! There was a time in this town when you would have been shot.”
Frank stood back and let matters take their course. He had done his part, and he felt that he had done well in exposing the scoundrel. It was not for him to say how the man should be dealt with by the club.
Darleton drew forth a pocketbook and flung it on the table.
“There’s my money,” he said. “Go ahead and take it.”
“You bet we will!” was the instant response.
The money was taken and divided before his eyes.
Then the men of cooler judgment prevailed over their more excitable companions, whom they persuaded to let Darleton depart in disgrace.