"You'll do no such thing!" stormed the Irishman. "I'd rather see you dead, Viola, than wedded to that fox!"
"Don't consider me, Miss Viola," put in Drayton. "Save yourself if you wish and can. But not-for Heaven's sake, not in that way-not for my sake!"
The girl and the lawyer were looking into each other's eyes. The faint rose of Viola's cheeks brightened to a livelier hue. Cleverest saw, and jumped at the conclusion most natural to a born Servant of Penn.
"Oh, is that it?" he demanded angrily. "Is this man your reason for declining my offers? Perhaps I have been a bit hasty, after all. The wife of Justice Supreme can have had no former lovers, dead or living!"
Viola uttered a little, horrified cry. The pink flush became a burning flood of color. Drayton sprang, but Terry was before him. One second later the Superlative's body crashed against the steel wall of the cell and dropped in a limp heap to the floor.
At the sound of his fall, the door was again flung open. The occupants of the cell found themselves covered by four leveled rifle barrels. Cleverest had not come here alone, and it looked as if the guards were in a mood to fire upon them and clear the cell of life forthwith. But finding, upon examination, that their superior was merely stunned and had suffered no broken bones, they decided to leave punishment to their masters. With many threats they retired, bearing the insensible Cleverest with them.
"That settles it!" said Drayton. "Nobody can ever mistake your feelings toward them, Terry!"
"I only wish that I'd killed him," growled the Irishman.
It was seven p.m., and they were beginning to wonder if Penn Service wasted not even bread and water on condemned prisoners, when the door bolts again clicked smoothly.
"Our supper at last!" commented Terry with satisfaction.