“You’re not going out of here to-night,” repeated Tom. “This has got to end. I’m going to find out your secret—the secret you are keeping in spite of your better self. We’ll get at the bottom of this—we’ll restore you to yourself, Sid—to the nine that needs you. We’ll have the ban removed!”
Once more he held out his hands appealingly.
“I ask you for the last time, will you stand back?” came from Sid, in steely tones.
“No!” cried Tom resolutely.
“Then I’ll make you!” and Sid approached closer. He made a grab for Tom’s outstretched right hand, and wrenched it cruelly. In spite of himself Tom gave a cry of pain, for the injury was tender yet.
This seemed to break the spell. Phil sprang forward.
“Sid—Tom!” he cried. “What are you doing?”
They seemed to realize, then, that they had nearly come to blows. With a sob, almost of despair, Sid released his hold of Tom’s hand, and staggered back. At the same time the captain, reaching in his pocket for the key, inserted it in the door, and shot back the lock.
“You may go,” he said gently.