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 Bank by to-morrow noon, or whoever has it will be—in a mess, that's all!"

"That's all, then," assented Scarlett. "Good-day."

"I'm not joking," began Borkman.

"Nor am I. Do you remember," asked Owen, "what happened in that club at Cebu? It's going shortly to happen in this doorway, unless you go."

Scowling piratically, the courier looked back over his shoulder from the threshold: "I've served fair notice. Don't imagine I'm tamely going to give it up to that little flapper of yours. She'd better look.…"

Scarlett ran two steps towards him, and shot out his right foot with the skill of an old drop-kicker. It would have scored an accurate goal. With a shout of rage, the big man wheeled; but Scarlett's guard was up, and at that instant a squad of newly arrived Dutch