“That’s enough!” she said. “That is a confession that there was money! You shall not rob me! When you give it to me you shall have your doll.”
He remained calm and self-confident.
“It is not a confession. There was no money, but I might have given you some of my own, for I did care for you once, till I discovered how treacherous you could be.”
Frank felt more than ever like shaking the man, but was forced to remain quiet and listen to his insolence.
“Don’t talk to me of treachery!” breathed the girl, her face crimson once more. “Why, I have understood you from the first, and I knew you for just what you are—a two-faced scoundrel and a craven! You fawned at the feet of my father, tempted many times to rob him of his ill-gotten gains, yet prevented from doing so by the picture of him upon your track, gun in hand. When he died, your fears ended, and you did not hesitate to break your oath to him and rob his child. You are a scoundrel all the way through! There is not one manly streak in you!”
Still she had kept her voice down, but now Frank had observed that the manner of the speakers and their earnest tones were causing curious eyes to be turned in that direction. Had the restaurant been well filled such a conversation must have been impossible without others to overhear it.
Jones laughed shortly.
“More of your dreams, young woman. It is useless to argue. All I want is my property, and then I will leave you to this gallant youth, of whom you have raved ever since the day he jumped into the water for you on Grand Lake. Perhaps he will marry you, as you have hoped, but I have my doubts.”
It was with the greatest difficulty that Merry refrained from leaping up and knocking the wretch down at once.
“If the opportunity comes,” said Frank, looking Jones in the face, “I shall make you beg the lady’s pardon for your insults.”