He was making for the lawyer with his fists upraised, but Squire Phin struck them down and forced the furious man back into his chair. He held him there, glowering down on him with a menace that would have quelled a wild beast.
“Go ahead, Phin Look,” whimpered the Captain; “put on another scar to match the one your brother made!”
“I propose you shall listen to reason, Kleber,” Squire Phin fairly hissed, “even if I have to hold you by the throat while I give you the truth. I tell you again to come to my office, and if I fail to satisfy you, then the law is open to you.”
The seaman sank back in his chair limply and the lawyer left him. But as he turned to Sylvena with a look of infinite pity on his face, Captain Willard leaped up.
“Don’t you see now that he has done father and us out of every dollar, Sylvene?” he wailed. “Don’t you believe me when I say——”
But she came forward hastily and put both her hands into the Squire’s, looked up at him trustfully and said:
“I believe in my—my—husband, that is to be, and that is the first and the surest duty of a good wife!” The Squire put his arm about her, bent down and kissed her, a happy sob in his throat choking back the words he wanted to say.
The son stared at them a moment, his jaw dropping, whirled on his father with a curse, and then clacking his fists together in impotent rage, rushed out of the office with a bang of the door that made the little building shiver.
With his one free hand the Squire put the crumpled notes to his teeth and began quietly to tear at them.
He caught her looking at him with wistful inquiry in which there was absolute trust.