"Now see here, Lacy. I know these things. I can prove them by a
perfectly competent witness. It is up to you to answer my questions,
and answer them straight. I've got you two fellows dead to rights
anyway you look at it. If you dare lay hands on me I'll kill you; if
you refuse to tell me what I want to know, I'll swear out warrants
inside of thirty minutes. Now what do you choose?"
For the first time Lacy's eyes wavered, their defiance gone, as he
glanced aside at Enright, who had collapsed in his chair, a mere
heavily breathing, shapeless thing. The sight of the coward seemed to
stiffen him to a species of resistance.
"If I answer--what then?" he growled desperately.
"What is offered me?"
Westcott moistened his lips. He had not before faced the situation
from this standpoint, yet, with only one thought in his mind, he
answered promptly.
"I am not the law," he said, "and all I am interested in now is the
release of Fred Cavendish and Stella Donovan. I'll accomplish that if
it has to be over your dead bodies. Beyond this, I wash my hands of
the whole affair.
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