That was all he said—just those three well-filled words—with a sad but firm look in his face and a neat little gesture of both hands. “When do they want it?”
“To-day; they're getting impatient.”
“Suppose you tell them that they'll have to practise economy for a week or so at least. I don't know but we shall decide to let them go ahead and do their worst. It isn't going to hurt Norris. He's been foolish about it; I'm trying to stiffen his backbone.” Wilton rose with a look of impatience in his face that betrayed him.
“Very well; but I shall not be responsible for the consequences.”
The cat had hissed for the first time, but he quickly recovered himself; the tender look returned to his eyes.
“I think you're foolish,” he began again, while his right forefinger caressed the point of his left. “These men are not going to last long. One of them has had delirium tremens twice, and the other is in the hospital with Bright's disease. They're both of them broke, and you know as well as I that they could get this money in an hour from some newspaper. It's almost dead sure that both of these men will be out of the way in a year or so. Norris wants to be protected, and it's up to you and me to do it.”
“Personally I do not see the object,” I insisted. “Protecting him from one assault only exposes him to another.”
“You see, the daughter isn't married yet, and we'd better protect the name until she's out of the way, anyhow. That girl can go to Europe and take her pick. She's good enough for any title. But if this came out it would hurt her chances.”
“Mr. Wilton, I congratulate you,” was my remark.
“I thought you would see the point,” he answered, with a smile.