Of the King’s Treasure
“Damme, Dick Ryder,” says Zacchary, jumping to his feet. “I won’t take no such terms from you, for all the fellow you think yourself. No, nor from a cold liver, like Creech,” he cries, returning again to Dan.
“Sit down, you fool,” I said sharply. But Creech was on his legs too, and had his fingers on his pistol, and there was like to be trouble on my hands. I took Zacchary by the collar and threw him back into his chair, where he lay struggling with me.
Creech was furious. “I’ll cut the heart out of you,” says he. “You muck-worm, you! “I’ll slit your gizzard, you.” But this was more than I could endure, for Zacchary was struggling to be at Creech, and Creech was reaching round me to fall on Zacchary; and all because the one chose to take a fit of temper, and the other had filled his jacket tighter than was good for him.
“Curse you, Dan,” I said, “I’m no watchdog to keep two fools from each other’s throat. Drop that pistol,” I says, “and shake yourself together, while I muzzle this bloody-minded
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