"What do you want me to say?" Fairfield asked, in a tone so solemn that it was no wonder his friend grinned more than ever.
"Oh, nothing, if that's the way you take it."
"You knew about those letters when I got them," Fairfield went on. "I read them to you before I knew where they came from."
"Oh, my dear fellow, hold on. You never read me any but the first one."
"At any rate," rejoined Dick, obviously disturbed by this thrust, "I told you about them."
"Oh, you did? You told me very little about the second, and nothing about the third. I didn't even know how many you had."
Fairfield rose from his seat, thrust his hands into his pockets, and began to pace up and down the room. Jack smoked and watched.
"Look here, Jack," Dick said, "we've been fencing round this thing for a week, and it's got to be talked out."
"All right; heave ahead, old man."
Fairfield stopped in his walk and confronted his friend.