“Why you damned—” And the young lord of Leesville stopped, speechless. Jimmie fell back a couple of steps, as a matter of precaution, but he did not weaken in his rigid resolve.
“I know you, Mr. Granitch,” he said; “and I know what you're doing. You might as well know you ain't foolin' nobody.”
“What the hell is it to you?” cried the other; but then he stopped again, and Jimmie heard him breathing hard. Evidently he made an effort to keep his self-control; when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “Listen, my good fellow,” he said. “You have a chance to make a good deal of money to-night—”
“I don't want your money!” broke in Jimmie. “I wouldn't touch your filthy money, that you get by murdering men!”
“My God!” said Lacey Granitch; and then, weakly: “What have you got against me?”
“What have I got? I was workin' in the Empire, an' I went on strike for my rights, an' you cursed me like I was a dog, an' you sent the police an' had me arrested, an' they smashed Wild Bill's nose, an' sent me up for ten days when I hadn't done nothin'—”
“Oh! So that's it, is it?”
“Yes, that's it; but I wouldn't mind that so much—if it wasn't for them shells you're makin' to kill men over in Europe. And you spendin' the money drinkin' champagne with chorus-girls, an' runnin' off with other men's wives!”
“You—” and Lacey uttered a foul oath, and leaped at Jimmie; but Jimmie had expected that, he was looking out for himself. There was no railing to the little porch on which he stood, and he leaped off to the ground and away. Because he knew the lay of the land, he could run faster in the darkness than his pursuer.
He sped down the path and out into the road—and there was the headlight of an automobile, almost upon him. The vehicle came to an instant stop, and a startled voice cried, “Hey, there!”