' to do it?" Uncle Henry asked.

"As I was going to say--" Hardy started, when Uncle Henry interrupted him
with:

"But it was what _he_ done!"

"Who?" asked Hardy.

"The bandit," Uncle Henry answered.

"Will you keep still?" Hardy urged.

"Certainly not!" Uncle Henry went on. "I got a gun here and I--"

Hardy reached for the weapon. "I'm holdin' you up, gol darn it!" Jasper
Hardy took the gun as he would have taken a bag of peanuts from a child,
and handed it to Gilbert with a wink.

"Hey! You can't do that!" wailed the invalid. He wheeled his chair toward
his nephew. "You wouldn't do that if my friend Lopez was here, you big
bum!" he ended, as peevish as an infant.

Pell turned upon his wife. "Well, my dear--" he began, and once more his
lips curled at the irony of the last phrase.

"What!" Lucia said; and there was terror in her voice.

Pell did not mince words. "Having both the Option and a clearer
understanding of each other, there's nothing to detain us." He measured
everything he uttered, and watched the effect upon her.

"It's no use," Hardy broke in. "You're too late."

"Not if I got there by eight o'clock," Pell said.

"But you won't!" Jasper Hardy quickly said, glancing at the clock which
ticked on, inexorably.

Pell pulled out his watch. Then he looked at the option, deliberately,
carefully, and seemed to read a final sentence. Having done so, he tore the
piece of paper to bits slowly, and scattered them on the floor at his feet.
At that very instant the clock struck eight.

"It's eight o'clock!" "Red" exclaimed on the last peal of the bell.

"Eight o'clock!" Hardy cried. "And the place belongs to me!" He turned to
Pell. "Anything more from you?" he inquired, and smiled.

The other stared at him; but he said nothing. Instead, he went over again
to the table, and wet his handkerchief in the bowl, again refusing Lucia's
proffered assistance with a wave of his other hand. He bathed his own
wound. And meanwhile Hardy was saying to Gilbert:

"Well, young feller, it's your move."

"His move!" "Red" repeated the phrase. "Say, you wouldn't go and skin him
out of the place all over again, would you?"

Hardy sneered. "I'm going to foreclose, certainly, if that's what you mean,
you impudent young scoundrel!"

"You mean you would trim him again?" "Red" didn't believe it.

"Say, boy, you better use your head. You're going to marry my darter, ain't
you?"

"Yes--I hope so," the foreman said.