And, cutting into his hesitant speech there came abruptly the unsteady shout from the drunken and incautious member of the gang:
"Is that right, Jim? Has he got you? I'll come over an' beat his ol' head off'n his ol' shoulders … y'know me, Jim, ol' boy …"
His words broke off as abruptly as they had begun; some one had slapped a heavy hand across a foolish mouth.
But they all had heard, Turk and Rice down by the flume, Steele and Jim Banks himself here. Sternly and yet not altogether unkindly, his hand shifting to Banks' shoulder, Steele said:
"And time was when you were a square man, Jim. Don't you know this sort of business won't get you anywhere? You poor damned fool."
And Jim Banks, ridden hard by the emotions which only he knew of, his arm shot through with an agony of pain, allowed to be whipped from his white lips the words he would retract in another moment:
"I can't help myself! Joe's got the strangle hold on me. Some day I'll …"
But, suddenly realizing what he was saying, he shut his mouth savagely and took counsel with himself.