“You say another word, and I 'll knock your teeth down your throat.”
“I've got my hand in my pocket, Joe, and I've got a loaded gun in my hand, and if you threaten me again, I 'll blow a hole through you. I've half a mind to do it anyway. A fool like you has no business getting into a scrape if he can't keep his head. I'd a heap rather kill you than get caught through your fool noise. The sooner you understand me, the better for you. Now tell me how you're going to find out which way to take.”
“How—” McGlory was not a coward, but he could not face down the seasoned courage of the man before him. “Why—that's a cinch. Ain't he headed the same way we are?”
“Now, Joe, hold on. Don't be a bigger fool than you can help. You don't really think he'd take her right along over this road, do you?”
“Why—dam' it!”
“It's no good talking to you if you can't quiet down. You want to kill Roche, and you're right. I want him killed, too. The longer he's alive, the more danger for us. But if you go at him this way, he may kill you.”
“Him! Kill me! Why—”
“I mean it. He's desperate, too. You can't be too sure that he 'll always run like he did to-night. He's got Estelle to look out for, too. Now, it's plain that he hasn't gone down the road, because, look here,—she isn't good for more than a mile an hour, and he'd have sense enough to know we'd catch him.”
“Where is he gone, then?”
“Not very far—we know that much. Likely they're back here in the woods. Or maybe they went back to Van Deelen's.”