“Circus money, eh?” he sneered, unable to resist the impulse to make the fling. “I heard that Hiram has been squaring himself with you.” He began counting the money.
“Now there’s no more business between us, Brad-ish,” said the lawyer as his client buttoned his coat.
“I hope not,” retorted Bradish.
“Only this,” pursued the Squire; “I may guess what you’re collecting your money for and shortening financial sail in town, and I may not. No matter! But I want to tell you, King Bradish, that from this time out you are going to leave Damaris Mayo to her husband.” Again he propped himself on the table and leaned forward.
The charge came so unexpectedly that the man’s florid face grew pale and then as suddenly flushed crimson, as he stammered oaths, seeking emphasis for his denial. The Squire came around the table toward him and raised his hand.
“Not a word—not a word more, Bradish,” he said, his composure perfect. “I married that boy and girl, and you can’t ruin that little home if I can prevent it—no, sir, you can’t!”
Bradish strode to the door, but he drove his fists down at his sides with a gesture of impotent ire, whirled and came back close to the lawyer.
“Why don’t you own up what your grudge is against me?” he gritted. “Why ain’t you man enough to fight fair and lay down when you’re licked? If Syl-vena Willard had wanted you she would have married you, and because she is going to marry me when—-when”—his eyes shifted uneasily under the Squire’s stern gaze—“when she gets ready to, is no reason why you should ghost me ’round town and make up stories to retail to her. I suppose you’ll be reporting I’m planning to run away.”
“You stop right where you are, Bradish!” cried the lawyer. “Sylvena Willard is too good a woman to have her name bandied here between us, or dragged through a village scandal by your fault. Your affairs and hers are between yourselves. You needn’t discuss them. But you shall not break up young Mayo’s family, nor insult Sylvena Willard by your actions, and I say this as a friend of both. Now, if you know where your head is level you will get out of my office.”
The creases deepened about the Squire’s mouth. One fist was clenched at his side. The other hand pointed to the door.