“Lushing? You don’t mean to say that he has had the brazen effrontery to come to you!”
“No; he didn’t come here. He sent me a note; an unsigned note, because he is a coward. He did it once before, when he was dis—when he left the Grillage Company. He says you will be tried for murder if the man dies, and he throws it in my face.”
David got upon his feet rather unsteadily, but the unsteadiness was of rage.
“There wasn’t any murder last night, but there is going to be one when I can find this man who writes anonymous letters to you!” he broke out.
“No; sit down again, please. I am not nearly through. It makes very little difference what Mr. Lushing, or anybody else, may write or say to me, David; but there are other things that do make a world of difference. What special thing is there in that tunnel that you don’t want Mr. Lushing or his engineers to find out?”
He stared at her gloomily. “If you were your father’s son instead of his daughter, I might tell you.”
“You will tell me anyhow,” she declared quickly. “If you don’t, I shall find out for myself.”
“I believe you are quite capable of it. But there is nothing to be told more than I have already told you. You may remember that I admitted that there was a place in the tunnel that may be called dangerous. If Lushing finds out about it, he will immediately insist that it is dangerous, and the railroad people will make us spend a lot of money needlessly. Your father didn’t put me here to bankrupt the Grillage Engineering Company, Vinnie.”
She ignored the clause in condonation.
“So, accordingly, you have given orders to our men to have an accident happen if the secret seems likely to be discovered. This is simply horrible, David!”