The key, at last, had fallen almost within reach of his fingers, and he would never consent to be robbed of it by the wild rage of a mob.

He grabbed the loaded revolver lying upon the floor, and swung Slavin's discarded belt across his shoulder.
If it was to be a fight, he would be found there to the death, and God have mercy on the man who stopped him! "Stand aside, gentlemen," he commanded.

"Step back, and let me pass!" They obeyed.

He swept them with watchful eyes, stepped past, and slammed the door behind him.

In his heart he held them as curs, but curs could snap, and enough of them might dare to pull him down.