“They ... beat ... me ... Falco ... inhuman ... no pity. If he wants anything ... he gets it ... no matter who’s hurt. It’s what he wants. The great Falco!” Dick’s voice, weak at first, was stronger now, in derision of the gang leader. “He has no use ... for weaklings. He says I’m a weak sister!”
“Once I was called weak,” Horace told him. “The boys at the newspaper office nicknamed me Sister, but I made them change their minds.”
“I guess we all ... have weak moments.”
“I’m having one right now,” confessed Judy. “I’m scared, and I don’t care who knows it. Maybe there’s an exit to the other room. If we broke down that door—”
“No use,” Dick said. “I saw ... inside. Things stored there. They ... showed me ... papers—”
“The ones you signed?”
“Yes ... and more. I gave in to them ... at first ... before I knew ... what they were up to. When I refused ... to sign any more names ... they beat me. Now they will drown me. I don’t care. I want to die.”
“Well, I don’t,” declared Judy, “and I don’t want you to die, either, Dick Hartwell. You’re young. You have a good life ahead of you—”
“Not now,” he interrupted. “Not ... any more.”
“You do if you go straight. But first we have to get you away from this man, Falco,” Judy told him. “He’s the dark man, isn’t he? He warned me to keep away from here, but I’m not afraid of him. Peter won’t let him hurt me. You remember Peter Dobbs, don’t you?”