"But that's neither here nor there," he went on more lightly. "Potts has brought it on himself."
In silence, then, we awaited the return of the messenger. The moment was tensely electric when at last we heard the clatter of his boots on the stairway. Breathless, he entered and stood before us, his coolness for once destroyed under the strain of his adventure. Solon helped him to a chair with soothing words.
"Take it easy now, Billy! Get your breath—there—that's good! Now tell us all about it—just what you said and just what he said and just what talk there was back and forth."
"Gosh-all-Hemlock!" spluttered Billy, not yet equal to his best narrative style.
We waited. He drew a dozen long breaths before he was again the cold, self-possessed, steely-eyed avenger.
"Well," he began brightly, "I gains access to our man in his wretched den on the second floor of the Eubanks Block. As good luck would have it, he was alone by hisself, walkin' up and down, swingin' his arms like he was practisin' one o' them speeches of his.
"Well, I had it all fixed up fine how I was goin' to act, and what I was goin' to say to him, and how I'd back up a few paces against the wall and say, 'Not a word above a whisper, or I'll send this bullet through your craven heart!' and he'd fall down on his knees and beg me in vain for mercy and so on. But Gee! the minute I seen him I got all nervoused up and I jest says, 'Here, read that there piece—your wife's comin' next Thursday!'
"Well, sir, at those careless words of mine he gives a guilty start, his face blanched with horror, and he hissed through his set teeth, 'Which one?'—as quick as that.
"Me?—I couldn't git out a word for a minute, and he started for me. 'Which one?' he repeats, hoarse with rage, and that gives me an idee. 'Stand back!' I cried fearlessly, 'stand back, coward that you are—make no word of outcry, or it will go hard with you—they're both comin',' I says,—'this one's comin' next week and the other one's comin' the week after, soon as she can git some sewin' done up.' Me?—I was leadin' him on, you understand—for we hadn't knowed there was more than one. Well, at that he read the piece over and set down in his chair with both hands up to his head and he says, 'I'm bein' hounded by a venal press, that's what's the matter; I'm bein' hounded from pillar to post.'
"At this I broke in with a sneer,—'Oh, we've only just began,' I says. 'We'll have the whole lot of 'em here inside of six weeks—children and all.' 'It's a lie,' he hissed at me. 'There ain't any more.'