Courthorne nodded. “That is direct,” he said. “One knows where he is when he deals with a man who talks as you do. Now, are you not curious as to the way I cheated both the river and the police?”
“No,” said Witham grimly, “not in the least. We will talk business together when it is necessary, but I can only decline to discuss anything else with you.”
Courthorne laughed. “There’s nothing to be gained by pretending to misunderstand you, but it wouldn’t pay me to be resentful when I’m graciously willing to let you work for me. Still, I have been inclined to wonder how you were getting on with my estimable relatives and connexions. One of them has, I hear, unbent a trifle towards you, but I would like to warn you not to presume on any small courtesy shown you by the younger Miss Barrington.”
Witham stood up and set his back to the door. “You heard my terms, but if you mention that lady again in connexion with me it would suit me equally well to make good all I owe you very differently.”
Courthorne did not appear in any way disconcerted, but before he could answer a man outside opened the door.
“Here’s Sergeant Stimson and one of his troopers wanting you,” he said.
Witham looked at Courthorne, but the latter smiled. “The visit has nothing to do with me. It is probably accidental; but I fancy Stimson knows me, and it wouldn’t be advisable for him to see us both together. Now, I wonder whether you could make it fifteen hundred dollars.”
“No,” said Witham. “Stay, if it pleases you.”
Courthorne shook his head. “I don’t know that it would. You don’t do it badly, Witham.”
He went out by another door almost as the grizzled sergeant came in and stood still, looking at the master of the homestead.