“You beat them all!” he growled. “I’d do just like that—I don’t think! Not one of those people has a claim on you. I’d let them all go to the deuce! It would be serving them right.”
“Well, I shall do nothing of the sort, my dear fellow.”
“I presume you will pay Lloyd Fowler two weeks salary?”
“I shall.”
Bart turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going out somewhere all alone by myself, where I can say some things about you. I am going to express my opinion of you to myself. I don’t want to do it here, for there would be a holy fight. I’ve got to do it in order to let off steam and cool down. I shall explode if I keep it corked up inside of me.”
He bolted out of the room, slamming the door fiercely behind him.
Frank and Ephraim went up to the room of Stella Stanley, which was on the next floor. They found all the members of the company packed into that room.
“May we come in?” asked Merry, pleasantly.