"But if your name were really Page——-" pressed Dick.
"No use stringing me like that," snapped the other. Even in the darkness, lit only here and there by starlight, the scowl on his face was visible. "Tell you what," declared Mosher, an instant later.
"Well?"
"Beat it!"
"I don't under———"
"Yes, you do," retorted the self-styled Mosher. "Vamoose!
Twenty-three in a hurry! Make your get-away!"
"Until I've made you listen to reason," Prescott insisted, "I won't leave you."
"Oh, yes, you will, and right now, or——-"
"No!"
"See here!"