“Yes?”
“So,” continued Billy, emboldened by Clive’s calmness, “what’s the matter with you an’ him fixin’ this thing up peaceable?”
“How?”
“I’ve got a blank check here. It was give me for expenses. Shows how the Boss trusts me, eh? Well, I’m willin’ to fill this out for $5,000 if you say, an——”
Then Clive Standish picked up his caller very gently by the nape of the neck, carried him tenderly to the door, opened it and deposited him in the hall outside.
Returning, he shut the door, crossed over to his bath-room and washed his hands.
“Beaten?” he murmured to himself, all his fatigue and discouragement forgotten. “Not yet! When they find it worth while to try to buy me off it shows they’re still afraid. I’m in for another try at this uphill game. But first of all I’ll see Caleb Conover face to face and have it out with him. I wonder,” he speculated less belligerently, “I wonder if Anice will happen to be in when I go there?”
CHAPTER VII
CALEB UNDERGOES A “HOME EVENING”
“There’s no use glowering at me every time you speak of poor Clive,” protested Mrs. Conover with all the fierce courage of a chased guinea-pig. “It isn’t my fault he’s running against you, and it isn’t my fault that he’s my nephew, either.”
“I guess both those failings would come under the head of misfortunes, rather’n faults,” retorted Caleb. “And they’re both as hard on him as they are on you, Letty. I wasn’t glowering at you, either. Don’t stir up another spat.”