32 Caliber | Page 6

you. Do you think I'll allow her to stay in this house,
forced to endure your attentions--?"
"Who are you to say what you will or won't allow?" Jim roared, his
eyes blazing. "You came into my house as my guest and stole my most
precious possession. Get out before I kill you!"
Woods' face was white. For one minute I felt sure the two men would
settle matters then and there. Suddenly he turned and said: "Come,

Helen!"
"She stays here!" Jim cried.
Helen had arisen from the divan when the two men came together. Now
she stepped forward.
"I'm going with Frank. We came back here more for your sake than our
own. We tried to give you a chance to do the decent thing, but I might
have known you wouldn't. With all your protestations of love for me,
when I ask you to do the one thing that would show that love, the one
thing that would make me happy, you not only refuse, but you insult
the man who means everything in the world to me. If I had ever loved
you in my life, what you have just said would have made me hate you.
As I never loved you, I despise and loathe you now."
She started to pass him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. His face
was white and drawn and his eyes were the eyes of a madman. He lifted
her up bodily and almost threw her on the divan, crying, "By God! You
stay here!"
Jim turned just as Woods rushed and with a mighty swing to the side of
the head, sent him crashing into the corner. Dazed as he was, he half
struggled to his feet, and when I saw him reach beneath his coat, I
sprang on him and wrenched the revolver from his hand.
Disheveled and half-stupefied, he rose and glared at us like an angry
bull. Slowly he straightened his tie and brushed back his hair. He
glanced over at Helen, who was sobbing on the sofa.
"Two of you--eh? A frame-up." All the hatred in the world gleamed in
his eyes, as he looked at Jim. "If you don't let Helen come to me,
Felderson, I'll kill you; so help me God, I'll kill you!" Then he picked
up his coat and hat and walked out of the room.
Jim went slowly to the door and into the hall. He looked tired and old. I
heard the outer door slam behind Frank Woods and a motor start. Then
I went out to Jim.

CHAPTER THREE
I COULD KILL HIM
I was on my way back to Jim's after having gone home to change my
clothes. Jim had asked me to stay with him that evening and, to tell the
truth, I was glad to do it, partly because of the threat Woods had made
and partly because of the way Helen looked at Jim when she passed us
in the hall on the way to her bedroom. Being a lawyer, I have naturally
made a pretty close study of character, and if I ever saw vindictiveness
on the face of any human, it was on Helen's at that moment.
I said nothing about the affair to mother while I was home, for she has
been very frail ever since my father's death and I thought there was no
use in needlessly upsetting her. There would be plenty of time to
discuss the matter after Helen left Jim.
Again and again I recalled the struggle of the afternoon and again and
again, Helen's face, distorted with anger, reappeared. Finally I decided
to drive the car over to Mary Pendleton's and ask her to come spend the
night with Helen. In her overwrought, hysterical condition, Helen was
capable of doing almost anything.
Mary has been like a second sister to me. She really cares nothing for
me, except in a sisterly way, but we have been together, so much so and
so long that Eastbrook gossips have given up speculating whether we
are engaged. I'd marry her in a minute, or even less, if she would have
me, but Mary insists on treating me like a kid; calls my crude attempts
at love-making "silly tosh and flub-dub," which makes the going rather
difficult. She was bridesmaid to Helen and is the one person, besides
myself, who can influence her in the least, so I felt that her presence
would add ballast to our wildly tossing domestic craft. Needless to say,
my own lack of self-control during the afternoon had been as
unexpected as it was disappointing, but when it comes to anything that
concerns Jim, I'm not responsible.
I rang the bell and Mary, herself, came to the door, looking radiant as
usual.

"Hello, Buppkins!" She greeted