"You must."
The men eyed each other steadily for a moment, then Buddy demanded, querulously, "What have you got against her, anyhow?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"She told me everything there is to tell an' I told you. I don't care what she's done—if she ever done anything. She's had a hard time."
"Will you wait forty-eight hours?"
"No."
"Twenty-four?"
"Gimme that ring!" When Gray made no move the speaker ran on, excitedly: "I'm a man. I'm of age. It's none of your business what I do—nor Pa's or Ma's, either. It won't do no good for them to come."
Gray went to the door, locked it and pocketed the key. "Buddy"—his voice was firm, his face was set—"you are a man, yes, although you were only a boy a few weeks ago. You are going to act like a man, now."
"You goin' to try an' hold me here?" The inquiry was one of mingled astonishment and anger, for young Briskow could scarcely believe his eyes. "Don't do that, Mr. Gray. I—Nobody can't make me do anything. Please don't! That's plumb foolish."