The affair was going precisely as he desired, yet for the sake of
appearances he angrily snarled:
"Let up, you dogs! So this is your game, is it? Turn that gun another
way, Venner, you miscreant! It might go off, and I'm not fool enough to
invite its contents. This dirty game that you've played--"
"Dry up!" Kilgore sharply interrupted, while he and Stall quickly
secured Nick's arms with a rope. "You'll not live to know the game that
we have played, Nick Carter."
"Won't I?"
"Not if I live!" cried Kilgore, with vicious significance.
"Well, maybe you'll not live long," retorted Nick.
"I'll close that saucy trap of yours, at all events," sneered Kilgore.
"Give me that gag, Matt--quick."
Nick no longer resisted. A glance at the clock on the mantel told him
that nearly ten minutes had passed since he left Chick. He suffered
himself to be gagged, then raised to his feet, from which Pylotte now
cast the line and emerged from under the table.
Nick bestowed one look upon him, from which the rascal shrank and
shuddered.
Kilgore now turned quickly to Venner, and hurriedly cried:
"You remain here, Rufe, and leave us to dispose of this fellow. We'll
run him over yonder, and return as quickly as possible.
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