“Now you’re beginnin’ to talk sense,” said he.

“Sit down, Ernest, and let me talk quietly to you,” said Mrs. Champney.  “I’m sure you don’t quite realize what you are doing.  You need moral support.  You are not naturally a bad man.  You—­”

“Are you goin’ to take them rings off peaceably?” muttered Smilk, a hunted look leaping into his eyes.

“I am not,” said she.

“Speak a little louder, both of you,” complained Mr. Yollop.  “This contraption of mine doesn’t seem to catch what you are saying.”

“Jiggle it,” said Smilk brightly.

“How long ago did you telephone for the police, Crittenden?”

“How long ago was it, Cassius?”

“Only about an hour.  We got plenty of time to finish up before they get here.”

“Do you think it will go harder with you, Cassius, if they find Mrs. Champney bound and gagged and everything scattered about the floor, and the jewelry in your possession?”

“It might help,” said Cassius.  “The trouble is, you never can tell what a damn’ fool jury will do, ’specially to a guy with a record like mine.”

“You had a splendid record up at Sing Sing,” announced the lady.  “That’s why I had so little trouble—­”

“You don’t get me,” said Cassius lugubriously.  “My record is a bad one.  I’ve been paroled twice.  That’s bound to influence most any jury against me.  Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if they recommended clemency, as the sayin’ is, and after all that’s been done to keep me out of the pen, the judge is likely to up and give me the minimum sentence.  No,” he went on, “I guess I’ll have to rap somebody over the bean.  I’d sooner it as you, ma’am, on account of the way you forced me into a life of crime when I was leadin’ an honest, happy, carefree—­”

“Why, the man’s insane, Crittenden,—­positively insane.  He doesn’t know what he’s—­”

“For God’s sake, don’t start anything like that,” barked Cassius.  “That would be the limit!”

“You don’t understand, Alice,” said Mr. Yollop kindly.  “The poor fellew merely wants to have the law enforced.  He says it’s a crime the way the law is being violated these days.  Or words to that effect, eh, Cassius?”

“Yes, sir.  There are more honest, law-abidin’ men up in Sing Sing right at this minute than there are in the whole city of New York.  Or words to that effect, as you say, Mr. Yollop.  The surest and quickest way to make an honest man of a crook is to send him to the pen.  I don’t know as I’ve ever heard of a robbery, or a holdup, or anything like that up there.”

“The way he rambles, Crittenden, is proof—­”

“It would be just like her to go on the stand and swear I’m batty,” snarled Cassius.  “I got to do something about it, Mr. Yollop.  She’s goin’ to interfere with the law again, sure as God made little apples.  I can see it comin’.  I’m goin’ to count three, ma’am.  If you don’t let Mr. Yollop start to tyin’ you up with that muffler of his hangin’ over there in the closet by the time I’ve said three, I’m goin’ to shoot him.  I hate to do it, ’cause he’s a fine feller and don’t deserve to be shot on account of any darn’ fool woman.”