This time Marston coloured perceptibly, and shrugged his shoulders. He did not answer.
"See here!" resumed Glenning. "I know why you went to Jericho. Now listen. If you begin spreading lies about me in this community you shall suffer. Tell the truth—the whole truth—and I'll not say a word. But you don't know the whole truth, nor any part of it. You didn't go to get the truth, but all the low, indecent scandal and gossip you could scrape together. Usually that side is not as hard to get as the other. It is not my fault that we have been enemies from the night I came to Macon. I would not have you for a friend, believe me, but we might at least have been civil. You've heard a great deal of stuff while you were away that your informants wouldn't repeat to my face. And I tell you they are all lies! Did you voice any of them to Miss—to her?"
Again Marston felt the truth dragged from him. But a sardonic smile of malicious pleasure spread over his face as he answered—
"I told her a little about my trip, and how a certain friend of hers had another sweetheart back up there, but she broke away before I could tell her all—"
"Broke away!—Devil! Did you hold her?"
Restraint for the moment was cast aside.
Glenning's long hands grasped each of Marston's arms just below the shoulders, and so he held him motionless.
"I didn't touch her!" was the snarling answer. "I held the damned colt by the bridle until she drew on me—"
John flung him backward with an oath.
"Strip!"