" Hermione's
firm, red lips remained tightly closed. "Did he?" Hermione slowly
inclined her head.
"Say now, Hermy," he went on, and his voice grew almost wheedling,
"there was a guy here the other night--a stranger, I guess--one o' these
tired, sleepy guys--one o' the reg'lar soft-talkin' nancy-boys--who is
he?" Hermione only sighed wearily, whereat his voice grew hoarse with
passion, and he questioned her fiercely: "Who is he, eh--who is he? What
was he doin' around here, anyway? Well, can't ye talk? Can't ye speak?"
Hermione only looked at him, and before those calm, fearless eyes,
M'Ginnis burned in a wild yet impotent rage.
"Won't talk, hey?" he questioned between grinding teeth. "Well, now, see
here, Hermy. If you let this guy come any love business with you behind
me back, it'll be his finish--an' he can blame you for it! An' see here
again--watch out for young Arthur. Oh!" he cried, seeing her flinch,
"you think you've got the Kid tied to ye, you think you've got him, I
guess--but you ain't! I've got him--right here!" and holding out his
hand, M'Ginnis slowly clenched it into a fist.
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