“Yes, you did, for I saw you.”
“How dare you, you lying cur!” cried Harry, seizing him by the throat and holding him back against the chair. “Give me the notes.”
“Don’t! don’t! You’ve hurt me enough once to-night. Look! my head’s bleeding now.”
Harry loosed his grasp, for the fact was patent.
“I—I hurt you?”
“Yes, with that ruler. What made you hit me like that? Take me for old Van Heldre?”
Harry’s jaw dropped, and he stared wildly at his companion.
“I—I hit you!” he faltered, as he struggled with his memory and asked himself whether he had stricken Pradelle down and not the old merchant.
“Well, I’ve got a cut two inches long and my head all swollen up. What made you do it?”
“I—do it! Here, what do you mean?”