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 The banker shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose so. And you know, Frank, the fear of man is an emotion I have never experienced."

Gordon bent quickly toward him, his face quiet and pale, and said in muffled accents:

"Well, you who have never feared man, listen. Get out of this house to-night, give up my wife, never speak to her again or cross my path, or else—" a pause—"I am going to disarm you, bend your bulldog's body across my knee by an art of which I am master, close your jaw with this fist on your throat, and break your back inch by inch. Will you go?"

Overman surveyed the questioner with scorn.

"When the woman who loves me tells me to go. This is her house!" he coolly sneered.

Again the voice opposite sank to velvet tones.

"Very well, we are face to face without disguise, beast to beast. You haven't the muscle to take her. She is mine. I gave for her the deathless love of a wife, two beautiful children, a name, a career, a character, and the life of the man who gave me being, who died with a broken heart. For her I turned my back upon the poor who looked to me for help, forgot the great city I loved, overturned God's altars, scorned heaven and dared the terrors of hell. Do you think that I will give her up? I own her, body and soul. I've paid the price."

He paused a moment, quivering with passion. "I know," he went on, "I was a fool floundering in