Sargent fell back a step.
"What—what do you want?" he asked, rather huskily, and it was plain he feared an immediate attack.
"I want to warn you."
"Warn me? About what? What is the matter?"
"Your life is in danger."
"How?"
"You told old Dan where I hid his bottle of whisky."
"Perhaps I did."
"There is no perhaps about it; old Dan says you did. Well, the old man got wretchedly drunk, and he nearly killed Cassie in the next room after the show was over. He knocked her down and kicked her. It was the whisky that made him do it. You gave him the whisky, and so you are responsible for all that happened."
"No such thing! The old fool was drunk anyhow, and what I did made no difference. In fact, he would have been uglier if he hadn't recovered the whisky. Don't try to make out that I am to blame because he beat the girl!"