"Well, gents, we might as well bring this affair to a focus, although
no doubt you two understand the meaning of it pretty well already. I
've got warrants here for the arrest of Winston and Swanson. I hope
neither of you intend to kick up any row."
The white teeth of the young mining engineer set like a trap, his gray
eyes gleaming dangerously beneath frowning brows. Instinctively he
took a quick step forward.
"Warrants?" he exclaimed, breathlessly. "In God's name, for what?"
Hayes tightened his grip on the gun butt, drawing it half from the
sheath, his eyes narrowing.
"For the murder of Jack Burke," he said tersely. "Don't you move,
young man!"
There was a long moment of intense, strained silence, in which the five
men could hear nothing but their own quick breathing. Before Winston
everything grew indistinct, unreal, the faces fronting him a phantasy
of imagination. He felt the fierce throb of his own pulses, a sudden
dull pain shooting through his temples. _Murder_! The terrible word
struck like a blow, appearing to paralyze all his faculties.
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