“What five hundred dollars?”
“You know very well what five hundred! Come, what did you do with it?”
“Really, Dr. Filhiol, this is a most astonishing accusation!” said Hal. “I don’t know anything about any five hundred. Is that amount gone?”
“You know very well it’s gone!”
“I know nothing of the kind! How should I?”
“You can’t fool me, young man!” exclaimed the doctor hotly. He raised his cane in menace.
“Put that stick down, sir,” said Hal in a wicked voice. “No man living can threaten me with a stick and get way with it. I tell you I don’t know anything about the money! I’ve been out of this house for some time, and you and Ezra have been here. Now you tell me there’s five hundred dollars gone. By God, if you weren’t an old man and a guest, you’d eat your words damned quick!”
“I—you—” stammered the doctor, outgeneralled.
“I’ve wasted enough time on you now!” Hal flung at him. “It’s time for you to be going.” He gripped Filhiol by the wrist with a vise-pressure that bruised. “And one thing more, you!” he growled. “You’d just better not go stirring up gramp against me, or accusing me to Ezra. It won’t be healthy for you to go accusing me of what you can’t prove, you prying gray ferret!”
“Ezra knows all about it already!” retorted the doctor, tempted to smash at that insolent, evil face with his cane.