“I’ll save you from the Black Caps if you’ll agree to keep away from Grace Morgan. There’s the straight of it. What do you say?”
“I say no,” responded Tom promptly.
“You won’t do it?”
“Hardly.”
“You’ll be sorry.”
“All right.”
“Suppose—suppose Bert gives you fifty dollars, will you keep away?”
“Say, Mart,” observed Tom, quietly, but with force, “you’re too cheap. Grace Morgan is worth a million, if she is worth a cent. You can’t scare me off nor buy me off. She’s a dear little lady, my good friend, and I wouldn’t give up her company under any circumstances as long as my coming seems to please her.”
“Rot you!” shouted Mart, fairly infuriated at the failure of his cherished schemes. “I’ve a good mind to kick you. I’ll do it, yes, I will——”
“Stop there, you miserable scamp!”