"Yes?"
"You're a fool!"
"Yes?"
"For not finishing the job."
Donnegan began to laugh. In the uproar of the train it was impossible really to hear the sound, but Lefty caught the pulse of it. He fingered his bruised throat; swallowing was a painful effort. And an indescribable feeling came over him as he realized that he sat armed to the teeth within a yard of the man he wanted to kill, and yet he was as effectively rendered helpless as though iron shackles had been locked on his wrists and legs. The night light came through the doorway, and he could make out the slender outline of Donnegan and again he caught the faint luster of that red hair; and out of the shadowy form a singular power emanated and sapped his strength at the root.
Yet he went on viciously: "Sooner or later, Donnegan, I'll get you!"
The red head of Donnegan moved, and Lefty Joe knew that the younger man was laughing again.
"Why are you after me?" he asked at length.
It was another blow in the face of Lefty. He sat for a time blinking with owlish stupidity.
"Why?" he echoed. And he spoke his astonishment from the heart.