Now listen. I feel no particular interest in the death
of Percival Coolidge. In my judgment the world is just as well off with
him dead as alive. But what this means to Natalie Coolidge is another
matter entirely."
"She told you--"
"Yes, she told me--a lie. That is what hurts; what makes me ready to take
any chance to put you where you belong. You have lied to her, deceived
her, made her your accomplice in crime. I'm fighting for a woman, because
she has got no one else to fight for her."
"Oh, I see; in love, hey--with her, or her money?"
"With neither so far as I know," frankly. "She is a woman helpless in
your hands; that is sufficient."
"But, hell, she hasn't any use for you--didn't she tell you so?"
"Quite plainly--yes. But that is no excuse for any man to play the
coward. I am not afraid of you, Hobart, or your gang. You got me before
by treachery; I was not looking for trouble. But now I am. I am going
through that door, and if you try to stop me you are going to get hurt."
The fellow grinned, one hand thrust into the outer pocket of his coat,
his eyes narrowed into ugly slits.
"You think so! You haven't a weapon on you, West, and if you take a
step, I'll put you out of commission. I know how to handle your kind,
you big bluffer. What I want to know is what you have got in your head,
for, believe me, I don't take any stock in this woman stuff. Are you
after the coin?"
"What coin?"
"Well, maybe a slice of old Coolidge's boodle.
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