"I grant that you have that right, but it would be good policy for you to refrain from saying anything commendable of the Klan any place. You see I'm interested in you, Ruth. Now there is a more serious matter that it is my duty to speak to you of. I understand that you keep company with Harold King."
"Yes. Mr. King is a friend of mine."
"As I said to you a moment ago, I am going to advise you as I would my own daughter. You can't afford to receive attention from a man like King."
Ruth was dumbfounded. For an instant she sat and stared at Stover. When she had partially recovered herself she asked, "What do you mean? What is wrong with Mr. King?"
"Well, he is a young man of poor judgment. He has a habit of being insolent to men who are his superiors and who are in a position to help him and who would help him if he had sense enough to be courteous to them. (Stover was now rubbing his hands together.) King has no standing in the community. I wouldn't loan him a dollar. He has also branded himself by joining the Klan. Now I wouldn't think of allowing one of my own daughters to associate with King. If you retain your position in the bank it will be necessary for you to discontinue your relationship with this man."
"Do I understand that I must quit going with Mr. King or give up my position in the bank?"
"Yes, that's it. I am acting for your good. If I wasn't an old friend of the family I wouldn't give you this chance. I have always dismissed my employees at once when I discovered that they were keeping bad company."
"Right here is where I quit," she said, her eyes flashing.
"Now, Ruth, don't be foolish. You have your father to think of." She stood before him a type of noble womanhood. Her chest raised, her little hands clenched and thrown down and back of her body line, she looked Stover in the eyes and defied him.
When she spoke her voice was full of resentment and determination, and her words were words of courage and loyalty: