"I am too much taken aback by your audacity to reply, or to deny," retorted the young man, drawing a deep breath. "Knowing me as you do, can you think me guilty of so cowardly a crime, as to strike down an old man?"
"I think you capable of acting anyhow to retain your own property," answered Mallien cynically.
"You judge me by yourself. You might act so, but I should not. However, it is useless to prolong this talk. I now know that you are an envious and disappointed man, and to get my money you are willing to go to the length of getting me hanged."
"You shouldn't murder people, you know," taunted Mallien, believing that he was now top dog and could have everything his own way.
Rupert passed over the accusation. "I suppose," he remarked, laying a trap for his foe, "that if I hand you over the property, will or no will, you won't say anything to the police?"
Mallien's dark eyes gleamed with greed and triumph, as he had not expected to gain so sudden a victory. Hendle had evidently surrendered without firing a shot. "Yes," he said eagerly. "After all, I don't want to wash dirty family linen in public, and it would be unpleasant for me and for Dorinda to see you in the dock. After all, also, the will leaves everything to me, as the descendant of Eunice Filbert."
"The will has yet to be found; it has yet to be proved legal," said Rupert calmly, "and we are not even certain if this presumed will is not a figment of Leigh's brain."
"Leigh could not have invented such a story," said Mallien doggedly. "And whether he did or not matters little. The property is mine----"
"That has yet to be proved," interpolated Hendle quietly.
"If you don't climb down, it will be proved at the expense of your arrest for the murder," threatened Mallien.