Soapy's narrow eyes gleamed with an added viciousness, his pale nostrils expanded, but the retort died upon his curling mouth, his puffy eyelids widened and widened as he stared at the ring on Ravenslee's finger, and when he spoke his voice was strangely hoarse and eager.
"Say, sport—where'd you—get that—ring?"
"Why do you ask?"
"'Cause I want to know, I guess."
"Think you've seen it before?"
"Sport, I don't think—I know. I seen it many a time. I'd know it in a million, sure."
"Where did you see it before?"
"On M'Ginnis's mitt. It useter belong t' Bud."
"Ah!" exclaimed Ravenslee, scowling down at the ring, "you make me wish more than ever that I had throttled him a little harder."
"Where'd you get that ring, sport?" Soapy repeated.