Monty sat up, white, despairing, with strained, set face and
bloodshot eyes.
"Look here," he said, "I may be what you say, and I may not. It's
no business of yours. Do you hear? Now be off and leave me alone!
Such as I am, I am. I won't be interfered with. But - " Monty's
voice became a shriek.
"Leave me alone!" he cried. "I have no name I tell you, no past,
no future. Let me alone, or by Heaven I'll shoot you!"
Francis shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with a sigh.
"A word with you outside," he said to Trent - and Trent followed
him out into the night. The moon was paling - in the east there
was a faint shimmer of dawn. A breeze was rustling in the trees.
The two men stood face to face.
"Look here, sir," Francis said, "I notice that this concession of
yours is granted to you and your partner jointly whilst alive and
to the survivor, in case of the death of either of you."
"What then?" Trent asked fiercely.
"This! It's a beastly unfair arrangement, but I suppose it's too
late to upset it. Your partner is half sodden with drink now. You
know what that means in this climate. You've the wit to keep sober
enough yourself. You're a strong man, and he is weak. You must take
care of him. You can if you will.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61