"You won't escape me this time," he hissed.
Al struggled to release himself, but the grasp of the drink-maddened brute was not to be shaken off.
"No, you don't!" he said, in a fierce whisper. "I warned you that you had not heard the last of me."
Al tried to cry for help, but could only make an inarticulate sound.
Farley dragged him in the direction of the window, saying:
"You got away from me last night, but you won't this time."
"So," Al managed to gasp, "you were the masked man who accused me of being a horse thief?"
"I was the man. You nearly turned the tables on me that time, but you won't have the same luck twice in succession."
As he spoke Farley relaxed his grasp on the boy's throat.
"Youngster," he went on, "if it hadn't been for you I shouldn't have lost my job with Gus Wattles. Its loss, under the circumstances, means ruin for me. I can't catch up again, unless——"