"You're armed, Garry. Go for your gun!"
"No, no!"
"Then I'll give you cause to fight."
And as he spoke, he drew back his massive arm and with his open hand smote Donnegan heavily across the face. The weight of that blow crushed the little man against the wall.
"Your gun!" cried Lord Nick, swaying from side to side as the passion choked him.
Donnegan fell upon his knees and raised his arms.
"God have mercy on me, and on yourself!"
At that the blackness cleared slowly on the face of the big man; he thrust his revolver into the holster.
"This time," he said, "there's no death. But sooner or later we meet, Donnegan, and then, I swear by all that lives, I'll shoot you down—without mercy—like a mad dog. You've robbed me; you've hounded me: you've killed my men: you've taken the heart of the woman I love. And now nothing can save you from the end."
He turned on his heel and left the room.