“That kind of guff won’t go with me no longer,” he snarled, his face growing redder every instant.  “This ill business is played out.  He promised me three nights ago he’d make out a certificate next day—­you heard him say it—­and I waited for him all the morning and he never showed up.  And then he sneaks off to New York at daylight and stays away for two nights more, and then sneaks home again in the middle of the day when you don’t expect him, and goes to bed and sends for the doctor.  How many kinds of a damned fool does he take me for?  That work’s been finished three weeks yesterday; the money is all in the bank to pay for it just as soon as he signs the check, and he don’t sign it, and ye can’t get him to sign it.  Ain’t that so, Jim Murphy?”

Murphy nodded, and McGowan blazed on:  “If you want to know what I think about it—­there’s something crooked about the whole business, and it gets crookeder all the time.  He’s drunk, if he’s anything—­boiling drunk and—­”

Jack laid the full weight of his hand on the speaker’s shoulder: 

“Stop short off where you are, Mr. McGowan.”  The voice came as if through tightly clenched teeth.  “If you have any business that I can attend to I am here to do it, but you can’t remain here and abuse Mr. Minott.  My purpose in coming downstairs was to help you if I could, but you must act like a man, not like a ruffian.”

Murphy stepped quickly between the two men: 

“Go easy, Mac,” he cried in a conciliatory tone.  “If the doctor’s with him ye can’t see him.  Hear what Mr. Breen has to say; ye got to wait anyhow.  Of course, Mr. Breen, Mr. McGowan is het up because the men is gettin’ ugly, and he ain’t got money enough for his next pay-roll, and the last one ain’t all paid yit.”

McGowan again shifted his hat—­this time he canted it on one side.  His companion’s warning had had its effect, for his voice was now pitched in a lower key.

“There ain’t no use talking pay-roll to Mr. Breen, Jim,” he growled.  “He knows what it is; he gits up agin’ it once in a while himself.  If he’ll tell me just when I’m going to get my money I’ll wait like any decent man would wait, but I want to know, and I want to know now.”

At that instant the door of the sitting-room opened, and Corinne, shrinking as one in mortal fright, glided out and made a hurried escape upstairs.  Murphy sagged back against the wall and waited respectfully for her to disappear.  McGowan did not alter his position nor did he remove his hat, though he waited until she had reached the landing before speaking again: 

“And now, what are you going to do, Mr. Breen?” he demanded in threatening tones.

“Nothing,” said Jack in his same even voice, his eyes never moving from the contractor’s.  “Nothing, until you get into a different frame of mind.”  Then he turned to Murphy:  “When Mr. McGowan removes his hat, Mr. Murphy, and shows some sign of being a gentleman I will take you both into the next room and talk this matter over.”