“Well, I’m ready for you,” was the quick retort. “What do you want?”
“Merely to give you a little advice this morning.”
“When I need your advice, I’ll let you know.”
John closed the door.
“Your men are covering the name of the Ku Klux Klan with infamy,” John went on evenly. “If you have even the rudiments of common sense you must know that within a few weeks these fools will be beyond your control.”
“I haven’t felt the need of your help as yet,” interrupted Steve.
“No, but I’m generous. I volunteer to anticipate the needs of your weak intelligence.”
“John Graham,” Steve broke in angrily, “if you have anything to say to me, say it, and get out of this room!”
“I will say it, my boy, and—don’t—you—forget it!” John answered with quiet emphasis, taking a step closer to his rival. “I’m close on the track of the men who are at present terrorising this county. I’ll come up with them some night and there’ll be business for the coroner next day. Dare to permit another outrage of a personal character in this county and I’ll find your men if I drag the bottom of hell for them, and when I do, I’ll hang them to a tree in front of your door. And—mark you—if I fail to find them I’ll—hold—you—personally—responsible!”
Before Steve could reply he turned on his heel, slammed the door and left.