"Sure ?" There was an awful pause.

Gilmore carefully replaced his glass on the table, then he roared in a voice of thunder: "Stand up, you hound!" Montgomery realized that the consequences of his treachery were to be swift and terrible.

He came slowly to his feet, but no sooner had he gained them than Gilmore drove his fist into his face, and he collapsed on his chair.
"Stand up!" roared Gilmore again.
And again Montgomery came erect only to be knocked back into a sitting posture, with a long gash across his jaw where the gambler's diamond ring had left its mark.
"I tell you, stand up!" cried Gilmore.
Reaching forward he seized Montgomery by the throat with his left hand and jerked him to his feet, then holding him so, he coolly battered his face with his free hand.
"For God's sake, quit, boss--you're killin' me!" cried Joe, as he vainly sought to protect his face with his arms.
But Mr.Gilmore had a primitive prejudice in favor of brute force, and the cruel blows continued until Montgomery seemed to lose power even to attempt to shield himself; his great hands hung helpless at his side and his head fell over on his shoulder.

Seeing which the gambler released his victim, who, limp and quivering, dropped to the floor.
Still crazed with rage, Gilmore kicked the handy-man into a corner, and turning poured himself still another drink of whisky.

If he had spoken then of what was uppermost in his mind, it would have been to complain of the rotten luck which in so ticklish a business had furnished him with fools and sots for associates.