Are you all going to England?
If so, why have you bought guns?
What will you do with six rifles, three shot-guns, and three pistols on the London streets?
What will you do with tents in London?
Will you make campfires in Regent Circus, that you take with you all those cooking pots?
And all that rice, is that for the English to eat?
Bah! No tenderfoot can fool me! You go to find my ivory, d'you hear! You think to get away with it unknown to me! I tell you I have sharp ears! By Jingo; there is nothing I can not find out that goes on in Africa! You think to cheat me?
Then you are as good as dead men! You shall die like dogs! I will smithereen the whole damned lot of you before you touch a tusk!" "Get out of here!" growled Yerkes.
"Give him a chance to go quietly, Will," urged Monty, and Coutlass heard him.

Peaceful advice seemed the last spark needed to explode his crowded magazines of fury.

He clenched his fists--spat because the words would not flow fast enough--and screamed.
"Give me a chance, eh?
A chance, eh ?" Other doors began opening, and the appearance of an audience stimulated him to further peaks of rage.
"The only chance I need is a sight of your carcasses within range, and a long range will do for Georges Coutlass!" He glared past Yerkes at Monty who had risen leisurely.

"You call yourself a lord?
I call you a thief! A jackal!" "Here, get out!" growled Yerkes, self-constituted Cerberus.
"I will go when I damned please, you Yankee jackanapes!" the Greek retorted through set teeth.

Yerkes is a free man, able and willing to shoulder his own end of any argument.