West felt the utter uselessness of an attempt to appeal
to either.
"Where is Natalie Coolidge?" he asked, his own determination hardening.
"What do you propose doing with her?"
Hobart's teeth exhibited themselves in a sardonic grin.
"That is our business, but you can bet she'll not interfere."
"And a similar answer, I presume, will apply also to my case?"
"It will. Don't make the mistake, West, of believing we are damn fools. I
don't know just why I've blowed all this to you, but it ain't going to
help you any, you can be sure of that. In fact your knowing how the thing
was worked is liable to make things a blame sight harder in your case. We
won't do no more talking; so go on in through that door."
The fellow's demeanour had entirely changed; he was no longer pretending
to geniality, and his words were almost brutal. Apparently, all at once,
it had dawned sharply upon him that they had made a mistake--had boasted
far too freely. Any slip now, after what had been said, would wreck the
ship. West faced him watchfully, fully aware of the desperate situation,
instinctively feeling that this might be his last chance.
"In there, you say?" indicating the closed door.
"Yes; move!"
He did; with one swift leap forward, the whole impetus of his body behind
the blow, West drove his fist straight into the face confronting him. The
fellow reeled, clutched feebly at the smooth wall for support, dropped
helplessly forward, and fell headlong, with face hidden in outstretched
arms.
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