"You, Jarrold," demanded Brodie. "Got anything to say?"
Again silence. Then again a voice, Jarrold's, saying hurriedly:
"No. Benny's right. He had it coming. Damn fool."
"And you, Brail? And you, Tony? Got anything to say? Talk lively!"
Brail and Tony, like the others before them, were quick to excuse Brodie's act. They spoke briefly and relapsed into silence. Then, beginning far away and coming closer with the speed of an onrushing hurricane, Gloria heard heavy feet crunching in the dirt and gravel. A hard hand gripped her shoulder, jerking her to her feet.
"You, friend," said Brodie. "What have you got to say about it?"
She hung limp in his powerful hand, speechless.
He dragged her closer to the firelight, peering at her with his red-flecked eyes.
"Don't forget who she is," another voice was saying. Steve Jarrold's.
"Remember what I told you."
It was as though he prided himself on the fact that he alone knew her for Gaynor's daughter, and from it derived a sort of ownership of her; for while the others had never caught a glimpse of her until now, he had filled his eyes with her before. "We got to think this out. She came along with King. Got enough of him and switched to Gratton. That's like a woman."