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"No, by God!" cried Barrymaine in a sudden, wild fury, "I-I'll

sh-shoot him first!"

"Kill him?"

"Yes, k-kill him!"

"Oh no you won't, Ronald, for two reasons First of all, it would be

murder--!"

"Murder!" Barrymaine repeated, "so it would--murder! Yes, by God!"

"And secondly, you haven't the nerve Though he has clandestine

h he crush you into the mud, trample

you under his feet, throw you into a debtor's prison to rot out your

days--though he ruin you body and soul, and compromise your sister's

honor--still you'd never--murder him, Ronald, you couldn't, you

haven't the heart, because it would be--murder!"

Mr Chichester's voice was low, yet each incisive, quick-spoken word

reached Barnabas, while upon Barry his pistol-case, he threild arms and shook his

clenched fists in the air

"Damn him!" he cried, "damn him! B-bury me in a debtor's prison,

will he? Foul my sister's honor ill he? Never! never! I tell you

I'll kill him first!"

"Murder him, Ronald?"

"Murder? I t-tell you it's no ive me the

pistols"

"Hush! Coetting on, Ronald,--nearly seven o'clock, and