Page:The Indian Drum (1917 original).pdf/205

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A CALLER
189

"No; never."

Luke's voice cut suddenly their conversation; the doctor probably had given him some stimulant.

"Where'sh Ben Corvet?" Luke demanded arrogantly of the doctor. "You go get Ben Corvet! Tell Ben Corvet I want drink right away. Tell Ben Corvet I want my thousan' dollar . . . !"

Constance turned swiftly to her maid. "Go out to the car and wait for me," she commanded.

Luke's muffled, heavy voice went on; moments while he fought for breath interrupted it.

"You hear me, you damn Injin! . . . You go tell Ben Corvet I want my thousan' dollars, or I make it two nex' time! You hear me; you go tell Ben Corvet. . . . You let me go, you damn Injin!". . .

Through the doorway to the library they could see the doctor force Luke back upon the couch; Luke fought him furiously; then, suddenly as he had stirred to strength and fury, Luke collapsed again. His voice went on a moment more, rapidly growing weaker:

"You tell Ben Corvet I want my money, or I'll tell. He knows what I'll tell. . . . You don't know, you Injin devil. . . . Ben Corvet knows, and I know. . . . Tell him I'll tell . . . I'll tell . . . I'll tell!" The threatening voice stopped suddenly.

Constance, very pale, again faced Alan. "Of course, I understand," she said. "Uncle Benny has been paying blackmail to this man. For years, perhaps. . . ." She repeated the word after an instant, in a frightened voice, "Blackmail!"

"Won't you please go, Miss Sherrill?" Alan urged her. "It was good of you to come; but you mustn't stay now. He's—he's dying, of course."