Falconer was silent for a moment, then he said:
"It oughtn't to have been. If ever a man had cause to regard another as an enemy, I've had cause to regard you as one, Orme!"
Sir Stephen flushed, then went pale again.
"There is no use in raking up the past," he muttered.
"Oh, I've no need to rake it up; it's here right enough, without raking," retorted Falconer, and he touched his breast with his thick forefinger. "I'm not likely to forget the trick you played me; not likely to forget the man who turned on me and robbed me—"
"Robbed!" echoed Sir Stephen, with a dark frown.
Falconer turned his cigar in his mouth and bit at it.
"Yes, robbed. You seem to have forgotten: my memory is a better one than yours, and I'm not likely to forget the day I tramped back to the claim in that God-forsaken Australian hole to find that you'd discovered the gold while I'd been on the trail to raise food and money—discovered it and sold out—and cleared out!"
His eyes flashed redly and his mouth twitched as his teeth almost met in the choice Havana.
Sir Stephen threw out his hand.