"Now don't become violent, old fellow; don't become violent, even if I am having a little fun at your expense."
"You dare tell me you are here to have fun at my expense?"
"Certainly," came the brazen answer.
The very boldness and indifference of the detective appeared so paralyze to the Italian.
"Do you know the risk you take?"
"Certainly."
"You think I am a mere puppet for your amusement?"
"Certainly, but don't get violent, for I am an awful fellow when I get roused. Sometimes I have a spell come over me—yes, a strange sort of spell—and then I become very, very violent. So don't arouse me and bring on one of those spells. Just sit down and let me amuse myself at your expense. This is a very novel amusement for me. The idea of facing a terrible man right in his den and enraging him. Why, it's just jolly."
The Italian's eyes glowed like coals of fire as he said:
"You are lying; you came here with a purpose; you came back with friends whom you think you can summon at a moment's notice; but they will never come; I have taken care of them, and you are at my mercy. I have a grave all prepared under this flooring, and unless you give a satisfactory explanation of your visit here you will occupy that grave."