“If you keep spoutin’ it around that I ever slugged you, I’ll pull you into court and make you prove it! It’ll either be put up or shut up with you, mister!”
“Whenever you’re ready,” invited Slavens.
With somewhat more of ostentation than the simple act seemed to warrant, Boyle unbuttoned his coat, displaying his revolver as he made an exploration of his vest-pockets for a match to light his cigarette.
“Well, I guess you know what I’m here for?” Boyle suggested, passing his glance significantly from one to the other of them.
“Dr. Slavens is acquainted with your proposal,” said Agnes; “and it ought to be needless for me to say that I’ll not permit him to make any concession to shield myself.”
“Fine! fine!” said Boyle in mock applause, throwing his head back and snorting smoke.
“In the first place,” said Slavens, “your bluff don’t go. Miss Gates has not broken any law in registering and entering this land under an alias. There’s no crime in assuming a name, and no felony in acquiring property under it, unless fraud is used. She has defrauded nobody, and you could not make a case against her in a thousand years!” 267
“I can get an indictment–that’s a cinch!” declared Boyle.
“Go ahead,” said the doctor. “We’ve got some new blood in this country now, and we can find a jury that you don’t own and control when it comes to trial.”
“And after the indictment comes arrest and jail,” Boyle continued, overlooking the doctor’s argument in the lofty security of his position. “It would make a lot of noisy talk, considering the family reputation and all that.”