Garraboy carefully blotted the check-book in turn, replaced it in his pocket, and was thrusting back his chair from the desk when McKenna, turning on him sharply, said:
"Garraboy, you stole that ring of Mrs. Kildair's."
The broker, startled, jerked up his head.
"So that's the meaning of all this!" he said angrily.
"Answer my question!"
But this time Garraboy, without wincing, rose suddenly to his feet.
"McKenna, I have nothing more to say to you," he said, scowling, "on this or any other question. Your claims are satisfied. I recognize no further right of you to insult me."
"Don't move, Mr. Garraboy," said McKenna softly; "we've a lot of business still to talk over."
"Are you trying to blackmail me?" said Garraboy furiously, folding his arms.
"Garraboy, I've got the goods on you and there may be a paper or two in my pocket you wouldn't care to have served," said McKenna, the pupils of his eyes seeming to dwindle to a point as the whites showed under a well-simulated show of anger. "First place, you're going to sit here until I get a telephone those checks are cashed. Second, and this may surprise you, you're going to stick right by me—today and tonight, until you make up your mind whether you'll answer me or answer a court of justice. Third, before we get through here, I want your name at the bottom of a little document I've drawn up for you."