You
lying whelp, are you ready to die?"
Slavin's face was drawn and gray, the perspiration standing in beads
upon his forehead, but he could neither speak nor think, fascinated by
those remorseless eyes, which seemed to burn their way down into his
very soul.
"No? Well, then, I will give you, to-day, just one chance to
live--one, you dog--one. Don't move an eyelash! Tell me honestly why
you have been trying to get word with the girl, and you shall go out
from here living. Lie to me about it, and I am going to kill you where
you sit, as I would a mad dog. You know me, Slavin--now speak!"
So intensely still was it, Hampton could distinguish the faint ticking
of the watch in his pocket, the hiss of the breath between the giant's
clinched teeth. Twice the fellow tried to utter something, his lips
shaking as with the palsy, his ashen face the picture of terror. No
wretch dragged shrieking to the scaffold could have formed a more
pitiful sight, but there was no mercy in the eyes of the man watching
him.
"Speak, you cringing hound!"
Slavin gripped his great hands together convulsively, his throat
swelling beneath its red beard.
Pages:
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266