Again Mori and Nattie asked themselves what the fellow meant. Was it possible he would be villain enough to resort to personal violence. The younger Manning paled at the very thought.
"What would you do?" he called out, and his voice was unsteady.
Ralph laughed, triumphantly.
"I see I have touched the right spot," he replied. "I'll tell you in a very few words. If you do not permit us to go free from here and give your solemn promise—I guess you had better put it in writing—that you will not molest us for this, and also that you will withdraw from the competition for those army contracts, I'll kill Grant Manning with my own hands."
Nattie was very white when the English youth finished. His worst fears were realized. That Ralph meant what he said he firmly believed. Not so Mori.
"Don't pay any attention to his threats," whispered the latter. "He is only trying what you Americans call a 'bluff.' He wouldn't dare do any such thing. He thinks too much of his own neck, the precious scoundrel."
As if in refutation of his opinion, Ralph called out in determined tones:
"I mean what I say. I would rather hang than live ten or fifteen years in prison. I leave it to you. You can take your choice. I will give you ten minutes to make up your minds, and if, at the end of that time, you do not agree to my terms it'll be the last of your brother."
"Come away where we can talk without being under the eye of that miserable villain," said Mori, gravely.
"Wait; I wish to try a last chance," replied Nattie. He added in a loud voice: "In the castle, there. Willis Round, Cronin, do you intend to abide by Ralph Black's murderous proposition?"