"Humph!"
"If it hadn't been for men like you and Nicholas Weaver, my father would never be in prison."
The words were out before I knew it. They were most injudicious ones.
"What do you mean?" gasped the man. "What do you know about Nick Weaver?"
"More than you imagine. When he died he made a confession&—"
"It's false. Nick Weaver wasn't in his right mind when he died, anyhow."
"Perhaps he was."
"What you&—" began the man. Then he paused and began a rapid search in his pockets. "You've got that paper," he cried hoarsely. "Give it up," and as he spoke, John Stumpy took a threatening step toward me.
"Stand back!" and I raised the pistol.
I was trembling in every limb, but I actually believe I would have fired it if he had rushed upon me.