As he approached the group now, his face flushed from his peculiar exercise, every eye was upon him, and a death-like silence was upon all.
“You must speak, Clemmons, for this cannot be allowed to go by,” said Breslin, breaking the silence.
“Merrill, it seems that you accomplished Breslin’s feat, but you have also done something that he could not and would not do,” said Scott Clemmons.
“What is that, may I ask, Mr. Clemmons?”
“You dropped something from your pocket awhile since?”
“Yes, I heard it drop, but as I had no claim to it I paid no attention to it.”
“You know what it was?”
“Ah! yes; an octagonal coin which Breslin stole from you and placed in my pocket, hoping to prove me the thief,” was the cool response.
“Ha! you dare accuse me of being a thief?” and, like a mad bull, Barney Breslin rushed upon Mark Merrill.
Some would have interfered had they had time, and all expected to see Barney Breslin seize and crush Mark Merrill in his iron grasp.