Half-sullenly, half-aggressively, Guy Ranger flung the questions, standing with lowering brow before his captor. His head was down and his eyes raised with a peculiar, brutish expression. He had the appearance of a wild animal momentarily cowed, but preparing for furious battle. The smouldering of his look was terrible.
Burke Ranger met it with steely self-restraint. "I'll tell you presently," he said.
"You'll tell me now!" Fiercely the younger man made rejoinder. His power of resistance was growing, swiftly swallowing all sense of expediency. "If I choose to wallow in the mire, what the devil is it to you? You didn't send that accursed fool Kelly round for your own pleasure, I'll take my oath. What is it you want me for? Tell me straight!"
His voice rose on the words. His hands were clenched; yet still he wore that half-frightened look as of an animal that will spring when goaded, not before. His hair hung black and unkempt about his burning eyes. His face was drawn and deadly pale.
Burke stood like a rock, confronting him. He blocked the way to the door. "I'll tell you all you want to know in the morning," he said. "You have a wash now and turn in!"
The wild eyes took a fleeting glance round the room, returning instantly, as if fascinated, to Burke's face.
"Why the devil should I? I've got a—sty of my own to go to."
"Yes, I know," said Burke. Yet, he stood his ground, grimly emotionless.
"Then let me go to it!" Guy Ranger straightened himself, breathing heavily. "Get out!" he said. "Or—by heaven—I'll throw you!"
"You can't," said Burke. "So don't be a fool! You know—none better—that that sort of thing doesn't answer with me."