"Not much of a one. It doesn't take extraordinary powers of penetration to guess that a flame applied to a bundle of kindling will cause a fire. And when you keep piling on the fuel something's likely to get burned."
"Did I pile on the fuel?"
"You sure did. If there had been gunpowder under the kindling you could have expected an explosion—and a wreck."
"There's no wreck."
"No? I thought there might be—somewhere."
King spoke quickly. "Do you think I carried it too far?"
"I think you carried it some distance—for an invalid's diversion."
The young man flushed hotly. "I was genuinely interested and I saw no harm. If there's any harm done it's to myself, and I can stand that. I'm not conceited enough to imagine that a broken-backed cripple could make any lasting impression."
Burns turned and surveyed his companion with some amusement. "Do you consider that a description of yourself?"
"I certainly do." Jordan King's strong young jaw took on a grim expression.