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Williams answered with finality, "You have lied."

Seibert made a hoarse, deep-throated noise—something of a grunt and growl—and half lifted one of his thick arms. His face now became, not purplish as before, but vividly red, as if shame mingled with anger; and for a moment it appeared that he was about to strike at Williams, who remained perfectly motionless, his hands at his sides, and he met Seibert with a challenging glare that had in it the strange look of madness.

Presently Seibert lowered his arm, and, turning away, dropped bulkily into a chair, where he sat with downcast sullenness, seemingly a little dazed, his face otherwise heavy and mask-like.

He said nothing more, and it was only at parting that either of them spoke to him again; then Brundage said: "Seibert, hear this and remember it. Keep clear of old Tom Combe, whether I stay on the place or not. And if you try to make trouble over this, every white man from Apia to Sydney will learn just what kind of a low thief you have been!"