'Stop here,' said Alec sharply.
'Look here, I'm not going to be ordered about like a dog. You've got no right to talk to me like that. I came out here of my own free will, and I won't let you treat me like a damned nigger.'
'If you put your hand to your hip-pocket I think you'll find your revolver there.'
'I'm not going to give it you,' said George, his lips white with fear.
'Do you want me to come and take if from you myself?'
The two men stared at one another for a moment. Then George slowly put his hand to his pocket and took out the revolver. But a sudden impulse seized him. He raised it, quickly aimed at Alec, and fired. Walker was standing near him, and seeing the movement, instinctively beat up the boy's hand as pulled the trigger. In a moment the doctor had sprung forward and seizing him round the waist, thrown him backwards. The revolver fell from his hand. Alec had not moved.
'Let me go, damn you!' cried George, his voice shrill with rage.
'You need not hold him,' said Alec.
It was second nature with them all to perform Alec's commands, and without thinking twice they dropped their hands. George sank cowering into a chair. Walker, bending down, picked up the revolver and gave it to Alec, who silently fitted into an empty chamber the cartridge that had been brought to him.
'You see that it fits,' he said. 'Hadn't you better make a clean breast of it?'