Page:The traitor; a story of the fall of the invisible empire (IA traitorstoryoffa00dixo).pdf/115

 "Not if you've an ounce of manhood in you," said the Carpetbagger with quiet dignity. "You can't do it when I tell you the truth. Fifteen years ago I was an honoured minister of the gospel in Australia. An enemy of mine in England published against me an infamous slander. I returned to ask reparation. He not only refused to give it but insulted me by a dastardly blow in a public assembly. In a moment of insane rage I returned his blow with one which resulted in his death. Four months later I found myself, a man of culture, refinement and the highest order of social talents, a convict in prison garb serving a sentence for manslaughter. I emerged more dead than alive—it was late in life, but I lifted up my head, sought a new world and began all over again. Once more I've shown my power as a leader of men. It was born in me—a God-given birthright. My hair is white now with the frost of the grave; I'm alone and friendless. Put yourself in my place. It's my last chance. You are twenty years younger. I ask your pity, your sympathy, your friendship. Come, Judge, you too are a soldier of fortune in conquered territory and have your own secrets. Fight me fair."

"I'll fight you with every weapon in my power, fair or foul. You're in my way; get out of it," sneered the Judge.