Steve sat down suddenly. "Look, Commissioner Morehouse, if you think for one moment that I am among the Guardians so that I can cast some discredit upon them so that William Wrightwood can take over, you're much mistaken. Wrightwood can roast in hell for all of me."
Steve turned and looked at Lois. "Do you believe me? Are you on my side—or have you been playing Mata Hari with my feelings?"
Lois flushed. "I believe him, dad."
"Thanks," said Steve drily. "Now about the Mata Hari side of it?"
"Steve, forgive me; I had to know."
"So now you know," he said bitterly. "And so do I."
Charlemagne shrugged. "Steve does a fine enough job," he said. It came ungrudgingly.
"No doubt," said Morehouse. "And somehow I doubt that Wrightwood could plan all these years to plant his son in such a manner. To make—"
"Wrightwood has made pawns of everybody he could control," snapped Steve, "but I'll run my own life."