"You bet I can! And I'm going to live in New York!"
"Don't try it, Sid!"
Prale whirled and faced him. "You know more than you're telling!" he accused. "You open your face and talk! I never did have any too much love for you, and you can wager that I'm not going to let you frighten me into running away from New York! Talk!"
"I haven't anything more to say, Sid!"
"If I have to choke it out of you right here——"
"You'd better not. It would give your enemies a chance!"
"Lerton, I've fought the Honduras jungles! I've fought half-savage men and treacherous employees, snakes and fever, financial sharks and common adventurers. I didn't come back to New York to back down in front of a man like you—or half a hundred like you. Maybe that is strong talk—but you have it coming! Give my enemies a chance? I'll give them all the chance they want. Maybe they'll come into the open, then, and let me see whom I'm fighting! I don't like foes that fight from the dark!"
"You'd better go away, Sid. I'm talking for your own good!"
"For my good? For yours, you mean! Afraid you'll lose a few customers and a few dollars, by standing by your cousin, are you? Why don't you be a man, tell me what you know, help me to fight! Bah! I'm disgusted with you!"
He hurled George Lerton away from him, curled his lips in scorn of the man.