“Me, me, nobody but me!” vociferated Ezra, who had now reached the room. He clawed at the captain’s arm. “Not him, cap’n! Me!”
“If that’s true, Ezra, how the devil does Hal, here, know what you’re talking about, so slick?”
“Ezra lent me five hundred, when it comes to that,” put in Hal, “and told me it was his savings. But I see now—he stole it, the damned, black-hearted thief! Didn’t you, Ezra?”
“Sure, sure! Cap’n, you listen to me now. Hal, he never—”
“Ezra,” said old Briggs, holding his rage in check, “you’re wonderful!” He laid a hand of affection on the shoulder of the trembling old man. “It’s your heart and soul that’s speaking falsehood—falsehood more white and shining than God’s truth. But I can’t take your word, given to shield this serpent we’ve been nursing in our bosom. I know all about everything now. I know why Hal robbed me.”
“Like hell you do!” the boy blared out.
“Yes, even the name of the very boat he’s bought with my hard-saved money. Money that was meant to help him up and on again. It’s no use your lying to me, Ezra.” He pointed a steady, accusing finger. “There’s the thief, Ezra, standing right before you—standing there for the last time he’ll ever stand under this roof of mine, so help me God!”
“Cap’n, cap’n,” implored the old man sinking to his knees, hands clasped, face streaming tears. “Don’t say that! Oh, Lord, don’t, don’t say that!”
“I don’t give a damn what the old stiff says now,” sneered Hal, picking up his baggage. His red face was brutalized with rage and drink. “Let him go to it. He said a mouthful when he said I grabbed the coin. Sure I did—and I’m only sorry it wasn’t more. Wish I’d grabbed it all! I’d like to have cleaned the old tightwad for a decent roll, while I was at it!”
“Hal! Master Hal!”