enemy?

"He's gone!" groaned the tramp, sitting up quickly.

"He's here," said a voice that cut easily through the roar of the train.
"Waiting for you, Lefty."

The tramp was staggered again. But then, who had ever been able to
fathom the ways of Donnegan?

"Donnegan!" he cried with a sudden recklessness.

"Yes?"

"You're a fool!"

"Yes?"

"For not finishing the job."

Donnegan began to laugh. In the uproar of the train it was impossible
really to hear the sound, but Lefty caught the pulse of it. He fingered
his bruised throat; swallowing was a painful effort. And an
indescribable feeling came over him as he realized that he sat armed to
the teeth within a yard of the man he wanted to kill, and yet he was as
effectively rendered helpless as though iron shackles had been locked on
his wrists and legs. The night light came through the doorway, and he
could make out the slender outline of Donnegan and again he caught the
faint luster of that red hair; and out of the shadowy form a singular
power emanated and sapped his strength at the root.