He came slowly forward, ignoring her. His eyes were upon Jerry, who glared back at him like a young panther. He did not appear to be aware of Nan.
Suddenly he spoke, briefly, grimly every word clean as a pistol-shot.
"I suppose you are old enough to know what you are doing?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Jerry, in fierce response. "What are you doing here? And how the devil did you get in? This place belongs to me!"
"I know." Piet's face was contemptuous. He seemed to speak through closed lips. "That is why I came. I wanted you."
"What do you want me for?" flashed back Jerry, with clenched hands. "If you have anything to say, you'd better say it downstairs."
"I have nothing whatever to say." There was a deep sound in Piet's voice that was something more than a menace. Abruptly he squared his great shoulders, and brought the weapon he carried into full view.
Jerry's eyes blazed at the action.
"You be damned!" he exclaimed loudly. "I'll fight you with pleasure, but not before—"
"You will do nothing of the sort!" thundered Piet, striding forward. "You will take a horse-whipping from me here and now, and in my wife's presence. You have behaved like a cur, and she shall see you treated as such."