"Not a word, Solomon--it had to come. I am going to kill him. I
shall feel better then."
"What if he kills you?" demanded Mahaffy harshly. The judge
shrugged his shoulders.
"That is as it may be."
"Have you forgotten your grandson?" Mahaffy's voice was still
harsh and rasping.
"I regard my meeting with Fentress as nothing less than a sacred
duty to him."
"We know no more than we did this morning," said Mahaffy. "You
are mixing up all sorts of side issues with what should be your
real purpose."
"Not at all, Solomon--not at all! I look upon my grandson's
speedy recovery as an assured fact. Fentress dare not hold him.
He knows he is run to earth at last."
"Price--"
"No, Solomon--no, my friend, we will not speak of it again. You
will go back to Belle Plain with Yancy and Cavendish; you must
represent me there. We have as good as found Hannibal, but we
must be active in Miss Malroy's behalf. For us that has an
important bearing on the future, and since I can not, you must be
at Belle Plain when Carrington arrives with his pack of dogs.
Give him the advantage of your sound and mature judgment,
Solomon; don't let any false modesty keep you in the background."
"Who's going to second you?" snapped Mahaffy.
The judge was the picture of indifference.
"It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I
merely intend to remove him because he is not fit to live."
"At sun-up!" muttered Mahaffy.
"I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin
another," said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his
eyes.
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