“Do what I’ll do now.”
“Got something in your pocket, old chap?”
“Yes, I have. Let me go out.”
“And have a paragraph in the papers to-morrow morning about a discovery in the Park?”
“Yes. Curse him! he’s getting dangerous. If he is not silenced, what’s to happen next? Let me go, boy. There, he’s ringing again. Let me go.”
“Not if I can stop it, old man. We’ve got risks enough as it is.”
“Curse you, Paddy, for a fool!” cried the other; and he seized his brother and tried to drag him away, while the great fellow reached down and drew a pistol from his brother’s pocket.
“Got your sting, Jem,” he cried. “You don’t use that to-night.”
“Wrong!” cried the other, snatching it away; and as the bell was rung violently again he made for the door.