"To shoot down Landis, then take possession of him and while I nurse him back to health hold a gun—metaphorically speaking—to his head and make him do as I please: sign some lease, say, of the mines to you?"
The colonel shifted himself to a more comfortable position in his chair, brought the tips of his fingers together under his vast chin, and smiled benevolently upon Donnegan.
"It is as I thought," he murmured. "Donnegan, you are rare; you are exquisite!"
"And you," said Donnegan, "are a scoundrel."
"Exactly. I am very base." The colonel laughed. "You and I alone can speak with intimate knowledge of me." His chuckle shook all his body, and set the folds of his face quivering. His mirth died away when he saw Donnegan come to his feet.
"Eh?" he called.
"Good-by," said Donnegan.
"But where—Landis—Donnegan, what devil is in your eye?"
"A foolish devil, Colonel Macon. I surrender the benefits of all my work for you and go to make sure that you do not lay your hands upon Jack Landis."
The colonel opened and closed his lips foolishly like a fish gasping silently out of water. It was rare indeed for the colonel to appear foolish.