Not a word was returned by Agnes Wilt.
"How ill-advised," continued Calvin Van de Lear, "was your weakness during that behavior! Do you know what the tattle of all Kensington is? That you favored both the father and the son! That you declined the son only because his father might disinherit him, and put off the father because the son would have the longer enjoyment of his property! I have defended you everywhere on these charges. They say even more, Miss Agnes—if you prefer it—that the murder of the father was not committed by Andrew Zane without an instigator, perhaps an accessory."
The voice of Agnes was heard in hasty and anxious imploration:
"For pity's sake, say no more. Be silent. Am I not bowed and wretched enough?"
She came hastily to the fissure of the door and looked in, because Duff Salter just then sneezed tremendously:
"Jericho-o-o-o! Jer-ry-cho-o-o!"
Podge Byerly reappeared with a pack of cards and shuffled them before Duff Salter's face.
They sat down and played a game of euchre for a cent a point, the tablets at hand between them to write whatever was mindful. Duff Salter was the best player.
"I believe," wrote Podge, "that all Western men are gamblers. Are you?"
He wrote, to her astonishment,