"Well, are you afraid of sitting there?" Anthony snapped.
Johnson Boller mopped his brow.
"Maybe not," he said. "But with the things he's pieced together he can go to the police and have 'em around here in ten minutes! That son-of-a-gun can have you and me locked up without bail, and—that'd be nice, huh?"
"He can do nothing of the sort!"
"He can unless you show him a David Prentiss!" Mr. Boller urged. "He can unless we have the girl out and tell him the truth and have her corroborate it! Are you going to do that?"
Anthony Fry hugged his head for an instant; it was really aching now.
"No!" he said.
"It's better than being jugged, Anthony," suggested Johnson Boller. "You know, I've got some reputation as well as you, and—say, what did you mean by introducing her as my wife?"
"Was there anything else to do?"
"Why not as your sister?"