“I’ve got a scheme.”
“Make up your mind to come out, folks.”
It was Slim Caldwell’s voice, speaking near the kitchen door.
“You go to hell!” snapped Angel. “We’re not comin’ out. And lemme tell yuh somethin’ else, Caldwell; this girl ain’t comin’ out neither. You start anythin’, and she’ll suffer for it.”
Slim made no reply to Angel’s threat. Came the sound of some one changing his position on the floor, a gurgle, which might have been a curse—the sound of a blow.
“What in hell was that?” demanded Fohl. “Angel, did you hit that girl?”
“I—I’m all right,” gasped Lila. “What——”
“Fohl!”
It was not Jim Langley’s voice.
“Who in hell was that?” asked One-Eye quickly. “That ain’t Jim’s voice!”