that pulsated almost visibly around the younger man. His eyes
behind their glasses were cold and shrewd, wholly emotionless.

Piers paused an instant to grip his self-control the harder, for every
word he uttered seemed to make his hold the more precarious.

"I'll tell you what I mean," he said, his voice low and savagely
distinct. "I mean that what you've done--all this sneaking and scheming
to get me out of your way--isn't going to serve your purpose. I mean that
you shall swear to me here and now to give up the game during my absence,
or take the consequences. It is entirely due to you that I am going,
but--by Heaven--you shall reap no advantage from it!"

His voice rose a little, and the menace of it became more apparent. He
bent slightly towards the man he threatened. His eyes blazed red and
dangerous. Tudor stood his ground, but it was impossible any longer to
ignore Piers' open fury. It was like the blast of a hurricane hurled
full against him. He made a slight gesture of remonstrance.

"My good fellow, all this excitement is utterly uncalled for. The advice
I gave your grandfather would, I am convinced, have been given by any
other medical man in the country. If you are not satisfied with it, you
had better get him to have another opinion. As to taking advantage of
your absence, I really don't know what you mean, and I think if you are
wise you won't stop to explain. It's getting late and if you don't value
your night's rest, I can't do without mine. Also, I think when the
morning comes, you'll be ashamed of this foolery."

He spoke with studied coldness. He knew the value of a firm front when
facing odds. But he did not know the fiery soul of the man before him,
or realize that contempt poured upon outraged pride is as spirit poured
upon flame.

He saw the devil in Piers' eyes too late to change his tactics. Almost in
the same moment the last shred of Piers' self-control vanished like smoke
in a gale. He uttered a fearful oath and sprang upon Tudor like an animal
freed from a leash.

The struggle that followed was furious if brief. Tudor's temper, once
thoroughly roused, was as fierce as any man's, and though his knowledge
of the science of fighting was wholly elementary, he made a desperate
resistance. It lasted for possibly thirty seconds, and then he found
himself flung violently backwards across the table and pinned there, with
Piers' hands gripping his throat, and Piers' eyes, grim and murderous,
g