Evan's gorge rose at the man. He saw nothing to be gained now by hiding his feelings. "You damn sneak!" he said quietly. "Keep away from me, or I'll hurt you!"
Alfred, with a scared and venomous look, slunk down-stairs. Evan felt better.
Presently George Deaves called him back into the library. At what had taken place between father and son he could only guess. The old man's attitude had changed; he was disposed to be friendly. Divided between their fears and their suspicions father and son were continually making these face-abouts.
George Deaves said in his pompous way: "My father has re-considered his decision not to employ you further. He will be glad to have you stay according to the original arrangement."
"That's right," added the old man. "I just spoke a little hasty. I always said you were a good boy."
Evan's face hardened. "I'm not sure that I want the job," he said.
"Forty dollars a week's a fine salary," said Simeon Deaves.
"I'll stay for fifty," said Evan coolly.
They both gasped. "Are you trying to hold us up?" cried George Deaves.
"If that's what you want to call it," said Evan. "You force me to. If I appear anxious for the job, you will soon be accusing me again of being in the gang. As a matter of fact I don't care whether I stay or not."