"Well, out with it! What's it all about, Jack?"
"I heard this afternoon that my friend Gilbert was ruined in our
office. The presence of these men to-night makes me believe it to
be true. If it is true, I want to tell you that I'll never enter
the office again as long as I live!"
Breen's eyes flashed:
"You'll never enter! ... What the devil is the matter with you,
Jack!--are you drunk or crazy?"
"Neither! And I want to tell you, sir, too, that I won't be
pointed out as having anything to do with such a swindling concern
as the Mukton Lode Company. You've stopped the work on Gilbert's
house--Mr., Morris told me so--you've--"
The older man sprang from his seat and lunged toward the boy.
"Stop it!" he cried. "Now--quick!"
"Yes--and you've just given a dinner to the very men who helped
steal his money, and they sat here and laughed about it! I heard
them as I came in!" The boy's tears were choking him now.
"Didn't I tell you to stop, you idiot!" His fist was within an
inch of Jack's nose: "Do you want me to knock your head off? What
the hell is it your business who I invite to dinner--and what do
you know about Mukton Lode? Now you go to bed, and damn quick,
too! Parkins, put out the lights!"
And so ended the great crusade with our knight unhorsed and
floundering in the dust.
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