He turned to the crowd.
"Gentlemen, is it a good plan?"
As well as a Roman crowd if it wanted to see a gladiator die, the frayed nerves of The Corner responded to the stimulus of this delightful entertainment. There was a joyous chorus of approval.
"When the clock strikes, then," said Landis, and flung himself down in a chair, setting his teeth over his rage.
Donnegan smiled benevolently upon him; then he turned again and beckoned to George. The big man strode closer and leaned.
"George," he said. "I'm not going to kill this fellow."
"No, sir; certainly, sir," whispered the other. "George can kill him for you, sir."
Donnegan smiled wanly.
"I'm not going to kill him, George, on account of the girl on the hill. You know? And the reason is that she's fond of the lubber. I'll try to break his nerve, George, and drill him through the arm, say. No, I can't take chances like that. But if I have him shaking in time, I'll shoot him through the right shoulder, George.
"But if I miss and he gets me instead, mind you, never raise a hand against him. If you so much as touch his skin, I'll rise out of my grave and haunt you. You hear? Good-by, George."