Sit down,
Conniston. I'm going to explode a mine under you."
He flung himself into his swivel chair and twisted one of his fierce
mustaches, while his eyes blazed at Keith. Keith waited. He saw the
other was like an animal ready to spring and anxious to spring, the one
evident stricture on his desire being that there was nothing to spring
at unless it was himself.
"What happened last night?" he asked.
Keith's mind was already working swiftly. McDowell's question gave him
the opportunity of making the first play against Shan Tung.
"Enough to convince me that I am going to see Shan Tung today," he said.
He noticed the slow clenching and unclenching of McDowell's fingers
about the arms of his chair.
"Then--I was right?"
"I have every reason to believe you were--up to a certain point. I
shall know positively when I have talked with Shan Tung."
He smiled grimly. McDowell's eyes were no harder than his own. The iron
man drew a deep breath and relaxed a bit in his chair.
"If anything should happen," he said, looking away from Keith, as
though the speech were merely casual, "if he attacks you--"
"It might be necessary to kill him in self-defense," finished Keith.
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