McGowan again shifted his hat—this time he canted it on one side. His companion's warning had had its effect, for his voice was now pitched in a lower key.
“There ain't no use talking pay-roll to Mr. Breen, Jim,” he growled. “He knows what it is; he gits up agin' it once in a while himself. If he'll tell me just when I'm going to get my money I'll wait like any decent man would wait, but I want to know, and I want to know now.”
At that instant the door of the sitting-room opened, and Corinne, shrinking as one in mortal fright, glided out and made a hurried escape upstairs. Murphy sagged back against the wall and waited respectfully for her to disappear. McGowan did not alter his position nor did he remove his hat, though he waited until she had reached the landing before speaking again:
“And now, what are you going to do, Mr. Breen?” he demanded in threatening tones.
“Nothing,” said Jack in his same even voice, his eyes never moving from the contractor's. “Nothing, until you get into a different frame of mind.” Then he turned to Murphy: “When Mr. McGowan removes his hat, Mr. Murphy, and shows some sign of being a gentleman I will take you both into the next room and talk this matter over.”
McGowan flushed scarlet and jerked his hat from his head.
“Well she come on me sudden like and I didn't see her till she'd got by. Of course, if you've got anything to say, I'm here to listen, Where'll we go?”
Jack turned and led the way into the sitting-room, where he motioned them both to seats.
“And now what is the exact amount of your voucher?” he asked, when he had drawn up a chair and sat facing them.
McGowan fumbled in his inside pocket and drew forth a slip of paper.