hell, Nome, and is isn't the first woman. But your next won't be Mrs.
Becker!"

He thrust his revolver almost into the other man's face as Nome opened
his lips to speak.

"Shut up!" he cried. "If you open your dirty mouth again I'll be tempted
to kill you where you sit! Don't you know what happened to-night? Don't
you know that Mrs. Becker forgot herself, and remembered again, just in
time, and that you've taken a little blood from the colonel's heart as
you took all of it from--his?" He reached up and broke the string that
held the skull, turning the empty face of the thing toward Nome. "Look
at it, you scoundrel! That's the man you killed, as you would kill the
colonel if you could. That's Janette!"

His voice fell to a hissing whisper as he shoved the skull slowly across
the table, so close that a sudden movement would have sent it against
the other's breast.

"We've been fixing this thing up between us, Bucky--M'sieur Janette and
I," he went on, "and we've come to the conclusion that we won't kill
you, but that you don't belong to the service. Understand?"

"You mean--to drive me out--" One of Nome's hands had stolen to his
side, and Steele's pistol arm grew tense.

"On the table with your hands, Bucky! There, that's better," he laughed
softly.

"Yes, we're going to drive you out. You're going to pack up a few things