“I’ve just this to say—if I have any more hints or insinuations like I had this morning at breakfast, in front of the men or alone, I’ll give you such an infernal hammering you’ll be sorry for some time to come. Is that plain?”
“Plain talk, but talk is cheap,” sneered Ned. He was not lacking in physical courage, and although he knew quite well that Steve could probably do what he threatened, he showed no signs of backing down.
“And even if I took a hammering from you, it would not save you if I told my story to the rest of the crowd.”
“Tell them,” said Steve. “Tell them, and see what you’ll get from them. You can’t tell the story as it stands, as that would drag a girl’s name into it. But tell them you object to my being here because I’m guilty of the dirtiest, crookedest action a man could be guilty of. And I’ll tell them that what you accuse me of would be all you say, and I’ll tell them, if you like, that you believe you had proof of what you say, and I admit that there is every appearance that I was guilty. And then I’ll tell them that I am not—I’ll give them my word that you are wrong. Who will they believe, Ned Gunliffe?”
Ned was silent, although his lips still curled in a sneer.
Steve laughed shortly. “You know who they’d believe,” he said.
“And if I added my word to his,” Ess put in, quietly scornful, “and told them that I had seen the proof, and was satisfied with it, and that you were guilty?”
Steve turned to her. “They would still believe me. You doubt it? Then try it. There’s your uncle over there. Call him, and put the thing any way you like. I’ll stand by and not say a word till you’ve both finished, and I’ll tell him you are both wrong, and offer my hand and word on it. Try that, and see if he’ll believe me. Tell him the whole thing exactly as it occurred, and every solid fact and suggestion and insinuation you can offer. I’ll go away and leave you both to the telling of it. And when you’ve finished, simply tell him I deny any guilt or the truth of anything to be ashamed of. See who he’ll believe.”
He stopped his torrent of words abruptly, and waited for either of them to answer.
“This is all rather fruitless,” said Ess, desperately, and with doubts shaking her voice even as they were shaking her heart. “It does not matter what he or anyone believes as long as I am satisfied myself.”