“Wot yer doin’ then?”
“Living.”
Wilson caught an eager look from the shadowed face of the girl. He met the other eyes which peered viciously into his with frank aggressiveness. He never in his life had felt toward any fellow-creature as he felt towards this man. He could have reached for his throat. He drew his coat collar more closely about his neck and unbuttoned the lower buttons to give his legs freer play. The officer moved back a little, still retaining his grip on the girl’s arm.
“Well,” he said, “yer better get outern here now, or I’ll run you in, too.”
“No,” answered Wilson, “you’ll not run in either of us.”
“I won’t, eh? Move on lively–––”
“You go to the devil,” said Wilson, with quiet deliberation.
He saw the night stick swing for him, and, throwing his full weight against the officer, he lifted his arm and swung up under the chin. Then he seized the girl’s hand.
“Run,” he gasped, “run for all you’re worth!”