Max Brand

Harrigan Max Brand

They were past the thick of the mob now and they dodged rapidly among the cottages until theclamor of police fell away to a murmur behind them, and they swung out onto the narrow, darkstreet which led back toward the heart of Honolulu. For ten minutes they strode along without aword. Under the light of a street lamp they stopped of one accord."I'm McTee.""I'm Harrigan."The gripping of the hands was more than fellowship; it was like a test of strength which left eachuncertain of the other's resources. They were exactly opposite types. McTee was long of face, withan arched, cruel nose, gleaming eyes, heavy, straight brows which pointed up and gave a touch of theMephistophelian to his expression, a narrow, jutting chin, and lips habitually compressed to a thinline. It was a handsome face, in a way, but it showed such a brutal dominance that it inspired fearfirst and admiration afterward. Such a man must command. He might be only the boss of a gang of laborers, or he might be afinancier, but never in any case an underling. Altogether he combined physical and intellectualstrength to such a degree that both men and women would have stopped to look at him, and onceseen he would be remembered. On the other hand, in Harrigan one felt only force, not directed and controlled as in McTee, butimpulsive, irregular, irresponsible, uncompassed. He carried a contradiction in his face. The heavy, hard-cut jaw, the massive cheekbones, the stiff, straight upper lip indicated merely brutal enduranceand energy, but these qualities were tempered by possibilities of tenderness about the lips and by thesingular lights forever changing in the blue eyes. He would be hard for the shrewdest judge tounderstand, for the simple reason that he did not know himself