Fleming Stone went away, better pleased with Kane Landon than he had expected to be. Several people had told him of Landon’s perverseness and flippancy, and after seeing him, Stone had concluded that while Landon’s nature was irritable and his temper quick, he could be easily managed by any one who cared for him and understood him.
Meantime Judge Hoyt was calling on Avice, and was telling her, exultantly, that he had plans laid that augured success for his case.
“You’re going to do something wrong!” Avice exclaimed.
“Hush! Never put that in words! The walls have ears. If I do, Avice, you must never ask what I have done. My God, girl, isn’t it enough that I perjure my soul, jeopardize my reputation and forfeit my self-respect, for you, without having to bear your reproaches? Rest assured, it is only after failing in every honorable attempt, that I can bring myself to do—what you call something wrong.”
“Forgive me, Leslie,” and Avice was touched by the look of agony on the strong man’s face. “I do know you do it for me, and I will never reproach you. But you know, if I can accomplish Kane’s acquittal myself—”
“But you can’t! How can you? Avice, you haven’t engaged Stone, have you?”
“Why, you told me not to,” said the girl, prevaricating purposely.
“That’s right,” and the judge took her words to mean denial, as she hoped he would. “There’s no use calling him in, for, dear, he is very clever, I am told, and if I do this thing,—this wrong,” the fine eyes clouded every time Hoyt referred to his projected plan, “Fleming Stone might discover it,—though Duane never will.”
“Then you’re afraid of Mr. Stone?”
“In that way, yes. If I do something secret to win our cause,—to win you, it must remain secret or be of no avail. If Stone were here and discovered my—my plan,—he would expose it, and I should be disgraced for life,—and our case would be lost.”