“I see. All right, you’re going to tell her that you want the Point and then you’re going to sell it to me. Heathcote can fix this up in a few days––the money I pay you will get you out of Maclin’s reach. If he makes a break for you, I’ll grab him. I guess he’s susceptible to scare, too, if the truth were known.”
“My God! I want a drink.” Larry looked as if he did; he rose and reeled over to the closet.
Northrup regarded his man closely and his fingers reached out and drew the scattered papers nearer.
“Take only enough to stiffen you up, a swallow or two, Rivers.”
Larry obeyed mechanically and when he returned to his chair he was firmer.
“Rivers, I’m going to give you a chance by way of the only decent course open to you––or to me. God knows, it’s smudgy enough at the best and crooked, but it’s all I can muster. I don’t expect you to understand me, or my motives––I’m going to talk as man to man, stripped bare. In the future you can work it out any way you’re able to. What I want at the present is to clear the rubbish away that’s cluttering the soul of a woman. That’s enough and you can draw what damned conclusions you want to.”
There was an ugly gleam in Larry’s eyes. Men stripped bare show brutish traits, but he felt the straps that were binding him close.
“Go on!” he growled.
“You are to get your wife to give you this Point, Rivers. She may not want to, but you must force her a bit there by confessing to her the whole damned truth from start to finish about––these!”