arette fell to the floor. The muscles of his thin jowls twitched, and he glared menacingly at the Sergeant.
"What do you mean?" The words were like a snarl; and I noticed that his whole body was quivering.
"Know what became of your brother's revolver?" pursued Heath relentlessly, thrusting out his jaw.
Rex's mouth was working in a paroxysm of fury and fear, but he seemed unable to articulate.
"Where have you got it hidden?" Again Heath's voice sounded harshly.
"Revolver? . . . Hidden? . . ." At last Rex had succeeded in formulating his words. "You—filthy rotter! If you've got any idea that I have the revolver, go up and tear my room apart and look for it—and be damned to you!" His eyes flashed, and his upper lip lifted over his teeth. But there was fright in his attitude as well as rage.
Heath had leaned forward and was about to say something further, when Vance quickly rose and laid a restraining hand on the Sergeant's arm. He was too late, however, to avoid the thing he evidently hoped to forestall. What Heath had already said had proved sufficient stimulus to bring about a terrible reaction in his victim.
"What do I care what that unspeakable swine says?" he shouted, pointing a palsied finger at the Sergeant. Oaths and vituperation welled shrilly from his twitching lips. His insensate wrath seemed to pass all ordinary bounds. His enormous head was thrust forward like a python's; and his face was cyanosed and contorted.
