“Oswald, Lucille is my sister, and I am going to stand between her and the life of heartbroken wretchedness you are planning for her. You give me your word that you will not break over while you are both here together, and upon that condition you may stay in Powder Gap as long as you see fit.”
Oswald stood up and his lips were pale.
“And if I refuse to submit to any such unreasonable and humiliating condition—what then?”
David Vallory frowned up at his one-time schoolmate.
“You say that you have been bound by your promise of a year ago, but that you now repudiate it; as a man of honor, you are bound by it until I release you.”
“You are not answering my question.”
“I’ll answer it. The stub train going east leaves here every morning at seven-thirty; I’ll give you a day or two in which to think it over—with the promise still holding good.”
“And if, at the end of the day or two, I still refuse to recognize your right to interfere?”
“This is not Middleboro; and, as you have remarked, I am not the David Vallory you used to know. If you still decline to listen to reason, you’ll take that train and get out of here—if I have to hog-tie you and throw you into the baggage-car!”
“David!”