“The next time it wouldn't have been a bailable trespass case. Do you dare to tell me why you kept looking in at the windows of my house?”
“I was looking for the closet.”
“What closet?”
“For the closet where you keep the skeleton. But rest this night in peace, Pharaoh. I am going away.”
“I can sleep better for knowing that you are out of this town.”
“Then promise me that you will sleep to-night—sleep soundly. That thought will cheer me as I go on my way.” Britt started along, making no reply. “I bespeak for you sleep without dreams,” the Prophet called after him. “Your dreams, Pharaoh, might be colored with some of the realities—and that would be bad, very bad for your peace of mind.”
Once more Britt strode back from the vapors. “Are you trying to provoke me to smash my fist into your face? Are you trying to cook up a blackmail damage suit by the advice of that crook lawyer who bailed you out? I'm beginning to see why a lawyer was enough interested in you to get you back into this town.”
“You guess shrewdly, Pharaoh. You have avoided the deep plot against your wealth. Let the thought make you sleep soundly to-night. I'm glad to make my confession and hope it will add to your peace of mind.”
Usial Britt had appeared in the door of his cottage; he leaned lazily against the jamb. “It will be a fine night for sleeping,” he remarked, amiably. “This fog is sort of relaxing to the nerves!”
“Hold one moment, Pharaoh!” pleaded Elias. The appearance of the hated brother had started the magnate off once more. “I am anxious to make your night a peaceful one. If you see me go away, knowing that I shall not return again before your face, the comfort of your knowledge will lull you to sleep. Wait!”