"I look to you to return him. Stir yourself, Gatewood, or by
God, I'll hold so fierce a reckoning with you--"
The sentence remained unfinished, for Fentress felt his
overwrought nerves snap, and giving way to a sudden blind fury
struck at the judge.
"We are too old for rough and tumble," said the judge, who had
displayed astonishing agility in avoiding the blow. "Furthermore
we were once gentlemen. At present I am what I am, while you are
a hound and a blackguard! We'll settle this as becomes our
breeding." He poured himself a second glass of liquor from
Fentress' decanter. "I wonder if it is possible to insult you,"
and he tossed glass and contents in Fentress' face. The
colonel's thin features were convulsed. The judge watched him
with a scornful curling of the lips. "I am treating you better
than you deserve," he taunted.
"To-morrow morning at sun-up at Boggs' racetrack!" cried
Fentress. The judge bowed with splendid courtesy.
"Nothing could please me half so well," he declared. He turned
to the others. "Gentlemen, this is a private matter. When I
have met Colonel Fentress I shall make a public announcement of
why this appeared necessary to me; until then I trust this matter
will not be given publicity. May I ask your silence?" He bowed
again, and abruptly passed from the room.
His three friends followed in his steps, leaving Fentress
standing by the table, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.
As if the very place were evil, the judge hurried down the drive
toward the road.
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