"Don't look so scared, Ruby," he said, noting the girl's expression. "I'm not going to hurt her. I guess I've hurt her enough already. She's living as she'd ought to live, and so is—so is Christine. I'm not going to begrudge them anything. But I'm going to have a talk with her." His manner was ugly.
"I'm going to ask her two questions. She'll tell me the truth, I know. That's all I ask."
"She has always hated Bob Grand," cried Ruby, "if that's what you mean."
"That's what I mean. But I'm going to ask her just how much he has pestered her since—well, since that time with the show. I'm going to ask her if she knows what I did to her in the sale of my interest. I'm going to find out if he told her. Oh, you needn't worry! I won't do anything to hurt her or Christine. If she don't know already what I did to her, I'm going to tell her myself. If I get a chance to see my girl, I'm going to tell her just what I did to her mother."
"Braddock, you must listen to reason!" cried David. "No good can come of this. They are happy and contented. Don't spoil it all for them. Go away, man. Try to forget your grievance against Colonel Grand. God will punish him and—"
"I'll tell you what I came here for to-day, Jenison," said Braddock levelly. "Dick says you're still crazy about my—about Christine. He swears you haven't seen her in five years—some kind of a promise my wife made, he says. I came to ask you this question: will it make any difference in your intentions regarding her if I—if her father should happen to end his life on the scaffold? I don't say feelings, mind you,—I said intentions."
"I mean it. Would you still want her if—if it turned out that way?"
David looked helplessly from Joey to Ruby and then at the set, emotionless face of the questioner.
"Braddock, I can tell you this from my soul: nothing you may do will alter my feelings or my intentions. Christine is in no way responsible for your transgressions. I am only sorry that she has such a father. If she still cares for me, I shall ask her to be my wife, even though you are strung up a hundred times. But this is beside the question. You should think of her happiness, her peace of mind. All her life she will have to think of you as a—a—well, I won't say it. You—"
"I'll say it for you," interrupted the gray-faced listener: "as a gallows bird—as scaffold fruit."