“There are papers in there with which I can club Julius Marston until he squeals. I haven't seen them, but I know well enough what they are. I can scare him into giving back all he has taken away from me. I can make him give back a lot to other folks. And from those other folks I can get money to finish our work on the Conomo. Look at the monogram on that seal, Polly!” He pointed grimy finger and held the packet close.
“From—Miss Marston?” she asked, tremulously.
“Yes, Polly.”
“And she is helping you?”
“I suppose she is trying to.”
“Well, it's what a girl should do when she loves a man,” she returned. But she did not look at him and her lips were white.
“And you think I ought to use her help?”
“Yes.” She evidently realized that her tone was a mere quaver of assent, for she repeated the word more firmly.
“But these papers are not hers, Polly. She stole them—or somebody stole them for her—from her own father,” he went on, relentlessly.
“She must love you very much, Boyd.”