There 's another warrant in
your pocket for Winston."
"By thunder, yes; I 'd clear forgot it," fumbling at his papers.
"Well, I had n't; matter of some personal importance to me," the voice
taking on a lazy, insolent drawl. "Of course, the fellow is under
arrest all right, but that murder business is only part of it--I want
my wife."
Winston started forward, crouching as though he would spring directly
at the other's throat.
"Your wife?" he exclaimed madly, his voice choking. "Your wife? You
've sworn out a warrant for me on account of your wife?"
"Something of that nature, I believe," gazing at him insolently.
"Abduction I think the lawyers call it, and I notice you 've got the
lady hidden away back yonder now." He pointed across the other's
shoulder. "Caught with the goods. Oh, you 're a fine preacher of
morals, but I 've got you dead to rights this time."
Winston stood as though carven from stone, his face deathly white, his
lips compressed, his gray eyes burning, never wavering from that
mocking face.
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