"Not quite," he answered. He stooped for the pen and handed it again to Van Bleit. "We are not through yet. You have played your game of bluff very well, but you know perfectly that I could not get that packet from the Bank even with your receipt without a letter of authority from you." Van Bleit completely lost his temper. This man knew too much. It was almost like parting with his life's blood, this plundering him of his treasure. "Damn you?" he spluttered. "Damn you! May my hand rot off before it writes any such letter for you!" Lawless took an envelope and paper from his pocket, and calmly placed and held in position the envelope on the improvised writing-pad. "Now," he said, presenting it as he had the official receipt, "you will please address this to the Manager." "That I never will," Van Bleit blustered. "S'elp me, I never will." "Tom," said Lawless in a voice of deadly quiet, "when I give the word, don't hesitate to fire." "Right-ho?" Hayhurst answered cheerfully. "My only fear is that this weapon of mine is so eager it may go off on its own account." Lawless looked Van Bleit steadily in the eyes. "I want you to understand," he said, "that I am in earnest when I say that it is your life against these letters. Personally, I would quite as soon it were your life. The letters are nothing to me; but they are of considerable importance to other people... I doubt, on the whole, whether I should not be doing them and society at large a greater service by putting an end to you. I don't intend wasting my time in persuasion. Either you write as I direct, or I put a bullet through your heart." In his chagrin and utter helplessness Van Bleit began to whimper. "What have I ever done to you," he asked, "that you should hunt me down as you have? It's all spite--and jealousy. I'd like to kill you... I will kill you for this. My turn will come." He took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears from his eyes impatiently. "If you'd only be reasonable," he said, "and come to terms..." "I've stated my terms," Lawless interrupted drily. "Count ten, Tom; then if he doesn't write, blaze away." Hayhurst began to count audibly and fairly rapidly. When he reached eight Van Bleit with the tears in his eyes put his pen to the envelope and hurriedly directed it. Lawless examined it, put it away as he had the receipt, and spread, and held, the sheet of notepaper. There was a hard look of satisfaction in his eyes as he fastened them on Van Bleit's livid convulsed face. The knowledge of the exquisite torture he was inflicting gave him the peculiar pleasure that a man experiences when he is wiping out an injury. "Write briefly," he said, "to the Manager to the effect that you will be obliged if he will hand over to the bearer of this letter, Tom Hayhurst, the packet you deposited for safe keeping in the Bank, for which you enclose your receipt."