“You’re a liar!” retorted Dolph, quick as a flash.
It was well that Sterndale was between them instantly, else Don might have broken his promise to Renwood’s sister. Finding Dick there, he restrained himself, laughed harshly and triumphantly, and said:
“That’s all right; I can afford to take it off you just now. In short order I’ll show you up as both a liar and a sneak. You followed me from this room last night, and you can’t deny that.”
“I don’t wish to deny it. What if I did?” said Dolph.
“From here you went directly to the dressing-room under the grand-stand, where you used your handsome pearl-handled knife to slash these suits and cut up the football. Why you did such a low, sneaking trick is more than I can understand, unless you were possessed by the Old Boy himself.”
Renwood laughed derisively.
“You have more gall than any fellow I ever saw!” he declared. “I compliment you on your nerve, Mr. Scott!”
“How do you know he had such a thing as a pearl-handled knife?” asked Sterndale.
“That knife slashed the sleeve of my best coat from shoulder to elbow,” answered Don. “That knife cut these fingers,” and he displayed his bandaged digits. “That knife is in my possession!”
With the final words, he took the knife from his pocket and held it up before them all, causing every one of them to utter exclamations of surprise.