“You dam’ big boob!” cried the little man. “You’d let yourself--and me!--in for a criminal charge! And people have always said you have a brain!” “I’ve taken all I can from him!” Bradley said thickly. “Either you control your temper and cut out the rough stuff,” snapped Loveman, “or you and I are through!” The pair gazed fixedly at each other. Neither spoke. While they stood silent, Clifford became aware of the Japanese butler, his back toward the three of them and seemingly unaware of their doings, on his knees picking up bottles and broken glass and toweling up the spilled liquor from the rug. Without replying, Bradley put his hands in his trousers’ pockets, resumed his chair, and crossed his legs. With an easy motion Loveman dropped the pistol into a pocket of his dressing-gown, and stepped to Clifford’s side. He was again the agreeable man-about-town that Broadway liked so well. “Too bad--but natural--the way men will lose their tempers,” he said, as he helped Clifford to his feet and into a chair. “How’re you feeling?” “I’ll be all right in a breath or two.” “Better let me give you a brandy?” “No, thanks.” “Aw, it’s nothing!” cut in Bradley. “Let him finish saying how he was going to stop us!” “Do you feel like that--yet?” Loveman queried solicitously. Clifford was still dazed, but he was no less set in his purpose. “Bradley’s right--a little scuffle like that is nothing.” “Good; a great thing to be in training!” Loveman sank into his chair, smiling urbanely. “We’ve forgotten what’s happened”; and he brushed the matter into oblivion with a pleasant wave of the hand that two minutes before had gripped the pistol. “As I was about to remark--granting that you are right, how are you going to stop it?” “Of course I could stop it,” said Clifford, “by telling Jack and Mr. Morton about Mary Regan and her father and her uncle and her brother. At any rate, that would smash your game.” “As you say, provided, of course, there is a contemplated marriage, that would stop it,” Loveman agreed pleasantly. “Why don’t you do that?” “Considering the character of the Mortons and the fact that she’s more worth while than they are, telling on her seems to me a pretty raw deal to give Mary Regan: to show her up to them, and give the father, who’s as sympathetic as a shark, a chance to take the lead, break it off, make a scandal out of it, and to humiliate her in public.” “That’s dam’ delicate of you, Clifford,” said Loveman, “and I approve of your sentiments as a gentleman. But if you don’t do that, how else are you going to stop it?” Clifford spoke calmly. “I’m going to stop it through you.” “Through me! Well, well! Do you mind telling me, Clifford, just how I am going to do it?”