“There aren’t any buts,” snapped Gridley. “I’m chief of this gang, and what I say goes. I’ll wring the truth out of him, you can bet on that, and we then shall know where we stand. Tell me at once—who are you?”
The last was fiercely addressed to Patsy, but Patsy was undisturbed by his ferocity. He met his fiery gaze with a frigid stare, replying indifferently:
“Jack Dolan, just as I’ve told you.”
“That’s a lie,” snapped Gridley.
“You’d say that if I told you the truth. So I might as well hand you one name as another.”
“Oh, is that so? You mean, then, that you won’t tell me?”
“I already have told you.”
“Let it go at that, then, for the present,” said Gridley, with ominous severity. “Who gave you this note?”
“The party who wrote it,” said Patsy dryly.
“What’s his name?”