Page:Frank Packard - Greater Love Hath No Man.djvu/98

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78
GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN

making up with Twisty—he's the worst we've got. Keep on, and I'll get you—understand?"

But Varge's eyes, dropped to his jacket, were studying speculatively the three black figures stamped across one of the wide grey stripes and he made no answer.

Wenger's cane fell across the bench with an ugly slap.

"D'ye hear?" he snapped roughly.

"Yes," said Varge.

"Sir!" prompted Wenger viciously.

"Sir," said Convict Number 777.

And Wenger, with a short-flung, brutal laugh, turned on his heel and walked away.