Muller was never very quick at speech, and the American by his side answered for him. “Well, we have got to keep him until Larry comes. He’ll be here ’most directly.”
“Flo,” said Hetty, with relief in her face, “Larry is coming. We need not worry about anything now.”
The fräulein had risen in the meanwhile, and was busy with the kettle and a frying-pan. By and by, she set a steaming jug of coffee and a hot cornmeal cake before her guests for whom Muller had drawn out chairs. They were glad of the refreshment, and still more pleased when Grant and Breckenridge came in. When Larry shook hands with them, Hetty contrived to whisper in his ear:
“If you want to please me, get Clavering away.”
Grant glanced at her somewhat curiously, but both were sensible that other eyes were upon them, and with a just perceptible nod he passed on with Muller into the adjoining room. Clavering and the two Americans followed him with Breckenridge, and Grant who had heard something of what had happened from the fräulein, asked a few questions.
“You can go when it pleases you, Clavering,” he said. “I am sorry you have received some trifling injury, but I have an idea that you brought it upon yourself. In the face of your conduct to them it seems to me that my friends were warranted in detaining you until they made sure of the correctness of your story.”
Clavering flushed, for there was a contemptuous incisiveness in Grant’s voice which stung his pride.
“I don’t know that I am very grateful,” he said angrily, “and you are probably doing this because it suits you. In any case, your friends dare not have offered violence to me.”
Grant smiled grimly. “I wouldn’t try them too far. But I don’t quite catch your meaning. I can gain nothing by letting you go.”
“It should be tolerably plain. I fancied you desired to please some friends at Cedar who send money to you.”