"What do you mean?" said Garraboy, but with a note of apprehension in his voice.
"A plain, honest recital of what you've been doing with other folks' property these last two months—"
"You said—" fairly screamed the broker.
"I said if you settled my claims I wouldn't prosecute—true, and I won't. But just the same you're getting out of business here in New York, and I'm going to hold a paper that'll keep you out."
"Never!" exclaimed Garraboy in desperation. "Every cent I owe will be settled in twenty-four hours. I'll close up every account—I'll agree to that—but I'll not be blackmailed into this. You haven't a charge against me that'll stand in any court in this country—"
"What about that ring?" said McKenna. "You were trying all over town to raise fifteen thousand dollars that day. Garraboy, you stole that ring, pawned it, and raised the money to hold off your loans."
"That's a lie!" he said, clenching his fists. "I got it—"
"Where?"
"None of your business."
"Where did you get the money to pay your interest and to put up the new margins you did?"