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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

"Another insinuation like that, and you will learn what I can
do. You may be captain of this boat, but you are alone with us now,
and I can kill you before you could utter a cry. So help me God, I
will, if you dare insult her again."
He reeled back against the desk, although I do not think I touched him,
and his hand sought an open drawer. I knew him instantly for a coward,
and gripped his wrist, hurling him from me half across the room.
"I 'll stand here, and you over there. I prefer dealing with your kind
with bare hands. Now if you have any reply to make to this lady's
assertions put it in decent language."
He gasped a bit, rubbing his bruised wrist, his eyes shifting to the
closed door as though contemplating an alarm. But I stood where I
could block any effort, and I doubt if he liked the expression on my
face.
[Illustration: He gasped a bit, rubbing his bruised wrist.]
"There is no use going off at half cock, Craig," he snarled. "I did
n't mean any insult. And I 'll get you for that some time. You 'll
learn yet what the _Sea Gull_ is."
"No doubt," I coincided, tired of his threats, and awakened to the fact
that this quarrel was not likely to help our chances. "But for a few
minutes it will be worth your while to listen to me.


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