She straightened herself instantly in the chair and he knew from the look in her eyes that the clash had come.
"Do you want a bigger rake-off?" she sneered offensively.
"Do you think I'm a petty thief?"
She shrugged her shoulder cynically, but answered—
"It's legitimate."
"Perhaps; but I don't choose to do it. I refuse to force your confessedly inexperienced and incompetent services upon my men. What you ask is impossible."
He expected an outburst but none came; instead, she sat looking at him with a twisted smile.
"You'd better reconsider," she said at last, and there was in her voice and manner the taunting confidence of a "gun-man" who has his hand at his hip.
Symes spat out a particle of tobacco with angry vehemence and his ruddy face turned redder.