Colter paid no attention until his victim was backed against the rail in a corner. Then he released the millionaire he was manhandling. "You're going to tell me everything you know. Get that into your head. Or, by God, I'll wring your neck for you." The Englishman had never before been confronted with such a situation. He was a citizen of a country where wealth hedges a man from such assaults. The color ebbed from his face, then came back with a rush. "Go to the devil, you big bully," he flung out sharply. Moya, taken by surprise at Colter's abrupt desertion of her, had watched with amazement the subsequent flare-up. Now she crossed the porch toward them. "What are you doing, Mr. Colter?" "None of your funeral, ma'am," the miner answered bluntly, not for a moment lifting his hard eyes from Verinder. "Better unload what you know. I've had a talk with Quint Saladay. I know all he knows, that Bleyer and you and him with two other lads held up Jack and took his ore away. The three of them left you and Bleyer guarding Jack. What did you do with him?" "It's a bally lie. I didn't stay with Bleyer to guard him." "That's right. You didn't. You came back with the others. But you know what Bleyer did. Out with it." "I don't admit a word of what you say," said Verinder doggedly. Colter had trapped him into a half admission, but he did not intend to say any more. Moya spoke, a little timidly. "Wait a minute please, Mr. Colter. Let me talk with Mr. Verinder alone. I think he'll tell me what you want to know." Jack's friend looked at her with sharp suspicion. Was she trying to make a dupe of him? Her candid glance denied it. "All right. Talk to him all you like, but you'll do your talking here," he agreed curtly before he turned on his heel and walked away a few steps. "You must tell him what he wants to know, Mr. Verinder," urged the young woman in a low voice. "Something has happened to his friend. We must help clear it up." "I'm not responsible for what has happened to his friend. What do you want me to do? Peach on Bleyer, is that it?" "No. Send for him and tell Mr. Colter the truth." "I'll see him hanged and quartered first," he replied angrily. "If you don't, I'll tell what I know. There's a life at stake," Moya cried, a trace of agitation in her voice. "Fiddlesticks!" he shrugged. "The fellow's full of tricks. He worked one on us the other night. I'm hanged if I let him play me again." "You must. I'll tell Captain Kilmeny and Lord Farquhar. I'll not let it rest this way. The matter is serious." "I'm not going to be bullied into saying a word. That's the long and short of it," he repeated in disgust. "Let Bleyer tell the fellow if he wants to. I'll have nothing to do with it. We're not responsible for what has happened--if anything has." "Then I'll go and get Mr. Bleyer."