And it was the girl! The girl of the hansom cab! The young man’s heart leaped. Then a fierce anger swept over him, and his hand went swiftly to the long, smooth-barreled revolver.
“You don’t dare to let her speak,” proceeded the man from Butte, defiantly. “Because you know you lie. You’ve double crossed me for some reason, and I’m going to get square. I’ll fix you all; you, you dying devil,” pointing to Hong Yo, “and you, my respectable Mr. Farbush; for all your pull and high pretensions, I’m on to your game, and I’ll open it wide for this whole town of New York to see.”
Kenyon saw Hong Yo rise. It cost him a great effort, but he stood straight up. A fit of coughing racked him; then he drew a handkerchief from his blouse and touched his lips, while he took several steps toward the Westerner.
“You must not do this,” spoke he. He returned the handkerchief to the bosom of his blouse; and the hand lingered there.
“Must not,” cried the other. “It’s easy to see that you don’t know me. I’m going to get all your hides for this, and there is nothing that you can say or do that will stop me.”
As the last words were spoken Kenyon saw the yellow, skeleton-like hand flash out, and caught the light as it played for a second upon the side of a knife-blade. Then he leaped down and threw himself like a catapult against the door. As luck would have it, it opened inward, and his weight and power told at the very first plunge. The door fell in with a splintering crash, just as a wild scream broke from the lips of the girl.
HE STOOD FOR A MOMENT IN THE DOORWAY
At moments like these Steele Kenyon was like ice. Small things might shake or annoy him, but sudden perils seemed to steady his nerves and clarify his thoughts. With one hand plunged into his pocket grasping the Colt, he stood for a moment in the doorway. Upon the floor before him lay the man with the bandaged head; Hong Yo had fallen back into his chair, his breath whistling in his throat, the knife, now dripping with blood, still held in his hand. Farbush was upon his feet, while the girl had broken away from those who held her and was gazing with horror at the stricken man.
“Oh, you cowards,” she whispered, “you have murdered him. He was helpless and in your power, and you have murdered him.”